


Hymnless

by Moonrose001



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angry Sex, Barebacking, Casual Sex, Drunk Sex, Found Family in Space, Identity Porn, Keith is an awkward bro, Lance makes bad decisions but also tries his best to do the right thing, Langst, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-12-11 05:03:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 80,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11707374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose001/pseuds/Moonrose001
Summary: Lance has been in love with Hunk for years, but when Hunk starts dating Shay, Lance does three things a Paladin shouldn't ever do:1. Consume alcohol. 2. Eat food a stranger offered him. 3. Hook up with said stranger.





	1. Company

**Author's Note:**

> As far as I understand, the Paladins never actually see Lotor? And neither does Lotor?
> 
> Also I tagged this "Drunk Sex" but it's more accurate to say that it's Tipsy Sex. The drinks Lance drinks have the same alcohol percentage as a beer. For those of you wondering, no, Lance doesn't get roofied at any point in this fic. 
> 
> This isn't betaed, all mistakes are mine. Let me know when u find errors and mistakes. 
> 
> Title unbashedly stolen from Kesha's new song. 
> 
> Besides that, enjoy!

There are three things Lance knows:

  1. He’s hella handsome.
  2. His mother’s eyes are as blue as the sea on Varadero Beach.
  3. Hunk is in love with someone else.



In Lance’s dreams, Hunk turns the hug into a heated embrace. Hunk looks into Lance’s eyes. Hunk will smile, and his dimples will be deep and cute in his round cheeks. Lance will lean forwards, and Hunk won’t turn away and laugh, because he thinks Lance is kidding. He will meet Lance’s lips. He will be just as in love in Lance as Lance is in him. They will live happily ever after. Hunk will open up an intergalactic business for mechanical repairs. Lance will go be a big shot explorer. They’ll adopt five children, and they’ll love them.

In real life, Hunk meets Shay, and the crumbling sand Hunk has always been, turns into mountains. In real life, Hunk talks about Shay’s voice like he talks about his favorite music. In real life, they defeat Zarkon and Hunk.

Hunk asks Shay out. And Shay says yes.

In real life Lance is doing Hunk’s hair and straightening his best friend’s clothes for his first date. Before that, he washed the clothes with scented soap – not too much, but just enough – with Lance’s favorite scent that reminds him of sandalwood; a cool, yet spicy smell. He cleans Hunk’s room, just in case.

In case… in case Hunk’s lips will be on hers tonight, and he will feel the euphoric rush Lance felt when he kissed Hunk while they were drunk four years ago. And she – she will feel it too, and they’ll realize that all along, they’ve always been so right for each other. And in the evening, they might want to go back to Hunk’s room. And Hunk will be pressing his plumb, soft lips against the strong line of her neck. She doesn’t have any breasts, but surely – Hunk being a breast-kinda-man – his mouth will land on her chest, and Lance doesn’t know what else will happen. He doesn’t know anything about Balmeran bodies or Balmeran sex, but he does know love.

And when they had rescued Shay? He saw it. And he knew it was all over for him.

But Lance is a nice fella, right? He stands at the Castle’s gate, corrects Hunk’s hair one more time. Hunk is laughing overbearingly at him, before he hugs Lance and says: “Thanks, pal. You’re the best.”

And then he leaves, and Lance is drowning. The team is gone. Doing whatever. Lance doesn’t care. Blue sends him an inquisitive thought – even when he pilots Red, she still cares – but he waves her away. He just needs to go get some food, and stay in his bed after that.

But when Lance gets to the kitchen, he sees that Hunk has made a family-sized meal for them to eat, while he was out. There’s a special plate for Lance. There’s a note on it; that it’s Lance’s, and Hunk will know if someone else eats it.

And Lance just breaks like that. Tears well up into his eyes, and he whimpers as he holds them, trying to contain the hot, dizzy feeling of them running down his cheeks. He should’ve known this would’ve happened. After all, they’ve been friends for years and Lance has indirectly and directly made it clear, that he would be willing to do anything with Hunk. Be anything for him. Hunk has always laughed it off, but been thankful for the offer. Hunk knows Lance’s offer was and is genuine. Of course if Hunk had had any sort of interest, he would’ve taken the bait by now. And still Lance had gotten his hopes up.

God, Lance is so stupid. How could he have not seen this would happen.

“Lance?”

Lance flinches when he hears the voice. Of course it’s Keith, the last person Lance wants to be seen by, but of course his luck makes sure that Keith investigates.

“Lance?” Keith says, his voice thin with panic, as he goes to Lance’s side. “Are you injured?”

Lance shakes his head, still holding his eyes. Trust the Mullet to assume the worst.

Keith hesitates. “Then why are you crying?”

“Why would you care?” Lance angrily exclaims. “Just go away!”

Keith pauses, but then Lance hears him sitting down besides him. Lance keeps crying into his kneecaps, and eventually he feels Keith starting to rub his back. It’s clumsy and hesitant, but it sort of helps, and eventually Lance stops crying.

“He made me a plate,” Lance finally offers to Keith. “Hunk did.”

“Yeah?” Keith confirms, a little confused. “He always does. You’re so damn picky.”

Lance rubs his eyes. “He likes Shay.”

“Well, duh,” Keith replies. “Who else would he like?”

A deep stab of hurt pierces Lance in the chest, but outwardly all he can do is shudder and stare at Keith.

Keith looks at him, and then his eyes open wide. “Oh,” Keith mumbles. “Oh.”

New tears arrive in Lance’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Keith offers, looking a lot more uncomfortable.

And well Keith has always been a man of few words, so when Lance starts crying again, he doesn’t say anything, just pats Lance’s back again.

\----

Hunk comes home alone, as Lance, despite his preparations, expected. Lance predicted that Hunk would want to drop by and tell Lance about his date, so Lance has stayed in his room, pretending to study the Altean letter system. But Lance hears Hunk knock, and suddenly he needs to pretend to be asleep. He turns off the light and turns on his side, and when Hunk opens the door and sees Lance asleep, he fondly mumbles, “Good night, buddy,” and closes the door again.

\-----

The next couple of days, Keith is glued to Lance’s side, as if Lance’s heartbreak somehow is a physical enemy and Keith needs to be present 24/7 so he can have a chance to fistfight it once it shows up.

But it’s a lot less exciting than that. The day after Hunk’s date, Hunk tells Lance about it. Not a lot happened, really. They held hands and walked on a path along the mountains, a path Shay treasured. There’s not a lot else you can do on Balmera. They talked.

As soon as Hunk has gone off to the kitchen to prepare lunch, Lance has another crying trip, so after that Keith decides to just stay with Lance when Hunk approaches. As much as Hunk and Keith have become friends during their time as Paladins, Hunk clearly doesn’t feel like letting Keith in on what happens on the dates, so mostly they end up just talking about something else and sooner or later the rest of the team usually joins them. But when Hunk is starting to catch onto Keith’s persistence, Lance tells Keith to leave like a fucking moron and Hunk talks about the pleasant yellow of Shay’s eyes, her round, heart-shaped face, and the shy little smile of hers, when she looks up at him.

They kiss on the third date. That’s the night Lance somehow convinces Keith to fly him to the nearest place they can have a drink.

They don’t have much, but a small Balmeran crystal pretty much keeps their taps open. The bar is nothing like on Earth. The ceilings are high and 3D in an almost kaleidoscope way, the walls are made of mauve mosaics and the floors are covered with carpets. After three drinks, Lance is feeling _fantastic_. Not fantastic in the hyperactive kind of way, but the pool – who has a pool at a club and why has nobody fallen into it? – is so _pretty_. He stares at the blue water, reflecting the lights, and barely notices it when somebody comes to sit down besides him.

Keith has gone outside to take a walk, but said he’d stay close in case Lance wanted to go home.

“Hey.”

Lance blinks at the water. “Hello.”

The water chuckles. “Over here.”

Fingers turn Lance’s face around, and he stares into a handsome lilac face. Lance smiles, because he could never resist a nice pair of eyes. The irises are purple – a more intense shade than Keith’s – and the sclera are yellow. The yellow reminds Lance of the Galra, but the Galra is too variant a species to determine if this guy had some of it in him. The gaze is clearer than someone in a club should be. His brows are white and have a nice shape, which is nice to see, when people with bushy, unkempt eyebrows surround you. Well kempt brows mean a lot. The white hair is thick and long, curls at the ends, and the ears are…

“Pretty ears,” Lance notices, and reaches out to tug at them. They look like an Altean’s.

The stranger blinks at him, and tugs Lance’s ears in return. “Yours too.”

Lance leans back into his lounge chair, and smiles pleasantly at the stranger. “You’ve got a name, or should I just go with Handsome?”

“Handsome will do,” the stranger replies, his teeth as sharp as his smile. “You want some fruits?”

Lance looks down, and true enough, Handsome is holding a tray with what looks like candy apples. They’re red and glistening, syrupy and sugary, everything bad for you, everything just right for you.

Handsome picks up an apple, and holds it out to Lance. Lance leans forwards, and licks the surface of tit. It’s sugary and still moist, haven’t yet caramelized. Lance licks it again, this time dipping his teeth into the sticky surface, biting into the crisp skin of the apple. It tastes exactly like apples. Ripe enough to eat.

Lance leans back again, licking and sucking on the coated piece in his mouth, before chewing the warm meat. Melted syrup is dripping down Handsome’s fingers. It’s as red as jam.

Lance smiles and licks a straying drop away from Handsome’s knuckles. Handsome gives him a sultry smile, and puts the candy apple on the tray, putting the tray on the floor. The alien offers Lance the rest of his fingers, and Lance licks away the sweetness, chasing the taste of crushes, hugs and desserts. It tastes like summer. God, Lance misses summer.

When Lance is done licking the stranger’s fingers, he lets himself be pulled in by the waist. He crawls on top of the stranger; Handsome’s skin is cold and almost clammy to the touch.

When Lance kisses into Handsome’s mouth, it tastes nothing like summer. It tastes like grapefruit: Too bitter for Lance to take. It tastes like the bittersweet feeling of seeing the sun go down, its rays bleeding the sky red. The flavor is an explosion in Lance’s mouth, and Lance seeks more of it, lets the stranger put his hand on the back of Lance’s neck. Lets the other hand pull him in closer.

Lets the hands pull him into the nearest bathroom. Lets his knees sink him onto the floor. He paws at the thick thighs of the stranger, mouths at his crotch like glutton, eager to melt away the flavors of sweet fruits on his tongue. Handsome’s cock is salty and the veins are bulgy, throbbing. The fullness of it in his mouth has never tasted better. He sucks it down, as much as he can, consumes the feeling of being consumed. He slurps and bites a little, but the hand in his hair is careful and gentle.

It all ends with Lance suddenly being pulled off; he hisses as drops of seed hit his tongue and chin. The taste is foul, but Lance barely notices, because someone from the outside is slamming their fist into the bathroom door repeatedly. 

Handsome is breathing a little quickly, his cheeks a little flushed. He pulls Lance on top of his lap, quickly unbuttons and unzips Lance’s fly. His hand is a cold spider crawling into Lance’s boxers. Lance should be scared, should be cold, but it’s like falling freely.

Handsome spits in his hand and jerks Lance off, holding Lance’s around the neck. Not hard, just a slight pressure and he stares into Lance’s eyes as it happens. Lance’s breaths puff onto the stranger’s lips, quick and damp, and when Lance leans in to kiss the stranger, the hand tightens around his neck, around his cock and Lance comes in hot stripes. Handsome gradually eases the pressure around his neck. Lance comes away gasping, despite the hold not even having been that hard. Handsome licks away seed from his fingers, and almost politely tucks Lance back into his boxers.

Afterwards, Handsome presses him against the sink and makes out with him, before he leaves the toilet. After a while, when Lance has caught his breath, he leaves the bathroom too. Immediately he’s grabbed by the collar, and that’s when he knows he’s fucked.


	2. Burn Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A part of him feels a deep and an impending dread, but the heat and the lust and the need is just too fucking overwhelming to do anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> excuse the mistakes you shall surely find, and try to otherwise enjoy.

F-U-C-K-E-D. Fucked. Lance is fucked. And not only is he fucked. As Shiro drags both of them out of the club, Keith seems very fucked too, though the guy seems way too pouty to notice that. At the skirts of the parking lot, Shiro coms Pidge and Hunk, and reports that Keith and Lance are safe and they’re allowed to retreat.

Lance’s stomach plummets once he realizes that Pidge and Hunk must have been waiting close by in their Lions. He groans. God, Hunk had barely come home from date night, and –

“Alright, explain,” Shiro demands, his arms crossed as he stares them down inside the pod they arrived in.

“We ran off in the middle of the night to party,” Lance answers, and realizes to his horror that his voice is hoarse as quiznack.

“You call that partying?” Shiro asks, and the line would’ve been funny, if it hadn’t been because of the tone. “Keith is ripping his hair out outside a toilet, in which _you’re_ – “

He abruptly breaks off, his lips tightening, before he sighs and seems to loosen. “Listen,” he says. “If it was a matter of vacation, you could’ve just talked to me or Allura about it. You know we want to make sure you guys get a breather once a while.”

Keith continues pouting, and Lance slowly nods.

“Keith, you can pilot the pod,” Shiro instructs. As soon as Keith has strapped into the pilot seat, and they’ve taken off, Shiro sits down and gestures for Lance to do the same. “Lance. I saw someone else leave that bathroom and I heard the noises. This is not like you.”

“No,” Lance mutters back, a little shameful.

Shiro isn’t aiming for scolding anymore though, because he puts his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “How much did you have to drink?” he asks, worried.

“Not much, just three units,” Lance answers, getting increasingly flushed.

Shiro looks at Lance for a moment, and Lance can’t meet his eyes.

“Did you eat dinner?” Shiro asks.

“Yes, Shiro, just quit it alright?” Lance finally snaps. “It won’t happen again.”

\----

Except.

\----  
It kind of does.

\----

In the next club, the music is louder and more electro, and the strobe lights are brighter. This time, Lance doesn’t look like a mess. He’s wearing a light grey shirt, a denim jacket and black pants. Turns out Puig had a wide selection of fabrics and were mean tailors. When they had noticed Lance’s clothes fraying at the edges, they had fixed them and supplied new clothes too.

When Lance sights the mane of white hair, a cold flow of ice in a place too hot, he thanks his lucky stars. He tries to sneak up on Handsome, but the guy turns around before Lance has gotten close enough to even try.

Immediately he smiles, teeth sharp. “Want a drink?” he asks.

“Can’t say I don’t,” Lance says, and easily slides into the seat besides him. “Make it mild.”

Handsome says something to the bartender in another language, before he turns his face and looks at Lance. “Funny seeing you here.”

“What a coincidence.”

It’s not. One galaxy is a coincidence, but two at the same points of time? What were the chances this guy wasn’t fighting Voltron.

But… Handsome is here now, right? Peaceful, minding his own business on the neutral planet. Just because this guy is in Zarkon's army, doesn't mean he's necessarily a fascist. It seemed like most of the Galra didn't have a choice but to inhale and exhale extremism their whole life. Handsome isn’t even wearing the uniform, which Lance hasn’t ever seen a Galra soldier not do. Instead, he’s wearing a navy shirt, which has been rolled up to his elbows, and a tight black vest, enhancing the V of his chest, the bulging shoulders and leaner chest.

Lance finishes his appreciative glance, and sees that Handsome is giving him one of his own.

The bartender arrives with two drinks, and a bowl.

Handsome smirks at him, before pushing over the bowl.

It’s peaches. They’re yellow and cut in boats, burgundy where the meat has touched the pit. They look shiny in the low lightning.

“How?” Lance asks, looking at Handsome.

“It’s called a Mirage, a machine most intergalactic pass-throughs have,” Handsome explains, and relaxes in his chair. “I’m not sure how it works, to be honest. But they wouldn’t be able to serve so many different species otherwise.”

Lance stares at his peaches, and Handsome puts his hand on Lance’s thigh, and the other one curves around the side of Lance’s neck. Handsome picks up a boat, and Lance smiles crookedly. “Keeping up the tradition, huh?”

Handsome leans in closer. “I think I like seeing you with something in your mouth,” he whispers, and Lance obediently opens his mouth. The flavor is familiar and sour on his tongue, and it’s almost wrong to feel so nostalgic and sad while getting aroused at the same time. The peach is slick on his tongue, slippery.

As soon as Lance is done chewing and swallows it down, the fingers are offered. Lance licks them, and Handsome smiles.

“You have quite a sweet tooth,” he notices. His skin is just as cold as the last time. Lance meets his eyes, as he curls his tongue around a finger, and there’s a hitch in Handsome’s breath. Then he slides down from the chair, slides his hand into Lance’s and leads them not to the toilet this time, but outside. The night is humid, but except for the music coming from the club, the streets are empty.

Handsome presses him against the wall of the club, his lips finding Lance’s. The kiss is surprisingly gentle though, but it doesn’t stop Lance from hooking his fingers into Handsome’s waistband. He pulls the Galra closer to him and feels a hard bulge against him. Lance grinds his hips, and Handsome hisses, before grabbing Lance’s ass rather roughly and pressing him close.

“Fuck,” Lance curses, when Handsome lets go of his lips and starts to kiss and nip Lance’s along his jawline and neck. Handsome’s hand is sliding down Lance’s thigh, and lifts Lance’s leg by the knee, the grinding intensifying as Handsome starts to bite.

“Where?” Handsome whispers after a while.

“Didn’t you bring a ride?” Lance asks.

“I don’t think you would like it,” Handsome answers. A particular hard jerk makes Lance moan out, and shake his head.

“Well, we can’t do it here,” he insists.

So they end up in Handsome’s pod. It lacks the purple Lance has come to associate with the Galra, and there are only two seats, and a huge windscreen that’d bare them to the world, if the glass hadn’t been tinted black. They climb inside, and Lance is draped on top of the seats. Handsome is slow and graceful when he lays himself on top of Lance, their mouths meeting. The kisses are soft and wet.

Handsome shucks off his shirt, but Lance can’t even look, because their movements are becoming too hurried. The stranger pulls off Lance’s shirt, and then sits up to pull off his pants. In hurried but precise motions, Handsome finds a bottle of what is probably lube. Lance gasps against Handsome’s ear.

Handsome pulls down Lance’s underwear, and two fingers  glide inside. Lance grunts, and smacks Handsome’s shoulder.

“Slowly,” he hisses.

Handsome presses an apologetic kiss against Lance’s shoulder, before lowering down to kiss at Lance's chest. His lips are wet and hot against Lance’s nipple, and he sucks with his lips and tugs with his teeth as his fingers start to thrust.

It’s not long before Handsome climbs back up to line up. It’s so hot in the fucking pod that the windows are misting. Handsome’s hair is absolutely everywhere, making it hard for Lance to see anything at all, so he keeps his eyes closed, wraps his arms around Handsome’s back as the Galra pushes in. He's thicker than Lance’s expected, but the head of his cock is almost pointy, so it doesn’t feel downright painful at first when he pushes in.

Lance can’t help but whine though once Handsome gets past the head, biting his lip.

Handsome is slowing down even further, but breathing quickly into Lance’s ear. “You’re so tight.”

“Should’ve prepped me better then,” Lance moans and slaps Handsome on the ass.

Handsome stills. “Does it hurt?”

“No! Just… Just be still for a little while.”

Handsome nods, and Lance can feel cold sweat drip down the concave line of the Galra's spine. Eventually the tightness feels less immediate, and Lance sighs, Handsome shaking on top of him. Lance jerks his hips, and Handsome chuckles.

“You want me?” he asks, something teasing in his tone.

“Yeah,” Lance says. “Fucking give it to me.”

That’s all Handsome needs before he starts a slow roll. Lance keens and can’t help but arch his back as the sensations of having someone inside him rolls over him like waves. He’s not sure how much he likes this, but when Handsome tilts his hips he just hits this spot, and it suddenly feels so very good.

After that, it all goes very quickly. Handsome is quickening his rhythm, and sweating even more. Lance is gripping the edge of his seat, which is squeaking with every one of Handsome's gasps, until they finally reach climax. After Lance feels pretty damn nasty. He hates the oily feeling between his legs, and now that he has come, Handsome inside him kinda feels like he’s going to shit.

It doesn’t help that his ass makes a really gross sound when Handsome pulls out.

“Ew,” he says.

“Mature,” Handsome responds.

Lance makes the nasty discovery that this guy's species, whichever side, makes sure he produces a crazy amount of cum. He hands Lance tissues when Lance unexpectedly starts leaking like crazy, and Lance shrieks, trying not to stain the seats. Handsome doesn't seem to mind, but starts to spread Lance’s legs so he can see it all flowing out. It’s white like human’s, surprisingly enough. Lance wonders if this will cause an allergic reaction or something, or if this guy’s cum is poisonous. They probably should've used a condom. Are Galras' seed poisonous to humans?

They quickly gather their clothes after that and try to dress in the small vehicle without bumping into each other.

There’s no parting kiss, only a quick “Bye”, when Lance jumps out of the vehicle.

Of course, Shiro is standing at his pod.

Lance sends him a sour look.

“I asked you for permission!” Lance exclaims.

Shiro scoffs. “You think I would really let you go all alone?” He looks at his wrist watch. “Besides, it’s almost 3 AM.”

“We didn’t agree on a curfew,” Lance pouts.

“I wanted to see how long a night out for you would usually last, before setting a curfew,” Shiro says, his smile easy, as he climbs into the pilot seats. “Besides, you shouldn’t fly when you’ve been drinking.”

\-----

Keith slams Lance down on the floor. Oh why oh why did Lance choose to avoid Hunk by training with Keith. He should’ve gone to hang out with Pidge; they usually just flatout ignored Lance for most of the time. But then again, they’re usually the one Hunk ends up with, so…

“Buddy,” Lance gasps at the ceiling, “has your semen hypothetically ever gotten any of your human partners sick?”

Keith throws his – thankfully folded – Bayard at him.

\----

Handsome is definitely up to no good. The next month, they meet on four different planets. It’s not always that Lance gets to go out, and it’s not always he gets to go out alone, but usually when Lance visits the nearest bar on the nearest neutral planet after a Voltron battle, Handsome will be there.

On Alctor, a small forest planet, they meet at a bar in a hotel. Handsome is dressed in a black sweater and white jeans, lazily drinking from a drop-shaped glass at one of the many artificial ponds on a low chaiselong. Lance throws himself down besides him.

“Hello, stranger,” Lance pleasantly greets. He’s showing a little skin today. Knee-long, tight shorts, and a white loose tank top. Twist: The night air is hot and moist enough for the tank top to cling to Lance’s upper body, showing the dark brown circles of his nipples.

Handsome straightens on the chaiselong, and slides an egg-shaped bowl closer to him. It’s filled with black cherry-like berries. He pats his thighs, and Lance smiles coyly before crawling in-between his legs. Handsome’s chest is hard behind him. A possessive hand lands on Lance’s hipbone.

The Galra picks up a few berries. He pulls out the stems with his fingers as he holds it, causing a few wine-colored drops to stain his fingers. Lance eats one, and the taste is at first a little bitter, then incredibly minty with a overwhelming sweetness.

Lance moans, and despite how they usually stick to a few sweets before hurrying off, Handsome indulges him in giving him more. The cherries actually remind Lance a lot of After Eights.

When he finally turns his face away from a cherry, Handsome pulls him in closer and wraps his arms around Lance’s chest. Lance tilts his head, and lets Handsome nibble at his neck. Growing bold, the Galra sets to making a hickey right there in a public area, before moving down to the bud of Lance’s shoulder, kissing it softly.

“This feels good,” Handsome whispers into his ear. Lance shivers. “Making sure all of these people know who you belong to.”

Lance, who has at some point closed his eyes, opens them and sees people give them looks. “I think they think we’re just being inappropriate.”

“Oh really…” Handsome's voice is so low Lance can barely hear it. The Galra’s hand comes up to cup Lance’s neck, right underneath his jawline.

“Handsome…” Lance whispers.

The Galra exhales against Lance’s cheek, and Lance’s eyes are fluttering closed again, as Handsome breathes deeply and steady. His other hand raise and two fingers press against Lance’s lips, pulling at the lower lip. Lance is starting to get really warm, and he gasps when two strong fingers slip into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue. His hands come up in surprise, touching Handsome’s knuckles.

Their breathing is quickening, and Handsome fingers go deeper inside, until Lance’s hands are clenching the Galra’s in his. He can feel himself getting hard, and he squirms against the Galra’s crotch.

Suddenly they’re standing, and Handsome is leading them away. Lance is just following along, but apparently Handsome has already rented a room, because he walks right past the reception and into a suite.

It’s different from what Lance is used to. There are more berries on the table, and more outside, where another little pond is, but this one is steaming, like a hot spring.

Handsome’s hand is already trying to get inside Lance’s pants, but Lance really wants to fuck in the pond now, so he ends up slipping lose. He sends Handsome a flirtatious smile over his shoulder as he strips on the way to the glass wall, which has a door leading to the hot spring. It's has gotten less warm and more cold outside, so it's a relief to lower himself into the water. It’s not long before Handsome follows.

“I let you do too much,” Handsome mentions, but doesn’t complain any more than that when Lance climbs into his lap again.

Lance kisses Handsome on the cheek, before sucking his earlobe. Handsome presses Lance against the hard edge of the hot spring, and they end up with Lance holding Handsome’s head with one hand, as Handsome mauls Lance’s neck, grinding against him.

The water provides too much friction though, and they’re not lined up in the best way. Still the heat of the water makes everything sensitive, makes his balls squeeze, his hole feel caressed and his hard cock feel like it’s being licked. He groans when Handsome gets a good grip on Lance’s hair, pulling his head further back and exposing more of this neck. Lance starts clawing at Handsome’s back, urgent and about to snap.

“I... I need more,” Lance cries out. “I need you close.”

Handsome growls, and pulls away, only to turn Lance around so his chest is up against the edge of the pond instead of his back. Handsome spreads his legs, and Lance is about to think that he’s lining up, and Lance is just about horny enough to let Handsome actually do it, but the Galra ends up putting his cock between Lance’s thighs, and closing them again. He wraps his arms around Lance’s body, keeps Lance’s arms pressed into his own chest. His thrusts are hard, and punishing and though this is technically less stimulating than before, the harshness, the way Handsome squeezes him tight is just right. It feels like that pill Lance took at a party as a freshman. It makes he feel like he's fireworks, but this time in a more sensual and sensitive way.

It all ends when Handsome pinches Lance's nipple and starts jerking Lance’s dick like crazy. Lance gasps breathlessly before coming almost painfully. Handsome works him through it, before following with a stutter of his hips.

Wow, Lance could really use a nap right about now, but they lazily make out until Lance is pretty sure it’s at least 2.30 AM, so he gets up reluctantly, and gets dressed.

\-----

At breakfast, Allura is convinced that Lance has been attacked and doesn’t want to admit it. Lance sure as Hell isn’t going to say what the marks on his neck mean, but when he gives the team a desperate look, it looks like they sure as hell aren’t going to either.

Finally, Hunk comes through, and says, “Allura, those aren’t bruises. They’re hickeys.”

Allura blinks at Hunk. “What is a hickey?”

“Don’t,” Lance says giving his friend his worst glare. He's not going to be the cause of Allura's corruptions to her innocence.

Allura looks from Hunk to Lance, before finally looking at Shiro, who is staring at the table like it's the most interesting thing ever.

“Let’s just say that Lance’s got way more game than I thought he was capable of,” Pidge snorts and Lance flickers goo at them.

Later Hunk pulls him aside.

“Are we alright, man?” he asks.

Lance smiles. He thinks about candy apples and grapefruit, peaches and bleeding sunsets. “I will be,” he answers.

\-----

On Earth, before Lance got into the Garrison and met Hunk, he had been wildly in love with this pianist. She hadn’t really liked him back, but behind her shy façade she was pretty hypersexual. They fucked at every single chance they had. They fucked in her room, in his room, in bathrooms, their friend’s room, on their friends' couches, on their parents couches, in her house’s garden, in her parents' car, and two times in an empty theater. He fingered her in the darkness of cinema, and sucked her tits when their friends were all sleeping around them during campouts.

He wasn't in love with her because of the sex, but he was a fourteen-year-old constantly horny boy, and she was a little older than him, more daring and confident in her sexuality once she had opened up to him. One day, he came to visit her, only to find that her parents were home (something unusual since her parents were Busy Rich People). They thought nothing of him, since she had boys over all the time (something he didn’t know back then, but what in the end was what ended their relationship). Anyways, they ended up making out, and in the middle of it she climbs onto the piano and asks him to fuck her, and he kind of doesn’t want to because her parents are home, but his dick also kind of doesn’t care, so he does what any boy in his position would do: he fucks her.

But in the middle of it, her hand slips and falls down on the piano keys, and the sound is horrifyingly loud, but they’re too far into the sex to just stop, so they just keep fucking as the piano complains loudly because she can't fucking keep still, and somewhere inside, Lance is fucking terrified her parents will come to investigate the odd sounds, because they hadn’t even locked the door, but he just can’t bring himself to stop.

And that’s how he feels with Handsome, just in a period stretched over a month instead of 15 minutes. A part of him feels a deep and an impending dread, but the heat and the lust and the need is just too fucking overwhelming to do anything about it. He knows what's he's doing is wrong: Handsome has been at many Voltron battles, and survived all of them. He doesn't radiate obedience like most Galra do; he seems too assured in his power for him to just be an unimportant soldier who just does what he’s told.

So the piano keeps clanging ungraciously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story might become a teensy bit longer than 3 chapters, sorry ^^


	3. Fever Highs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first... I'm the realest ~~why is this so funny to me.~~
> 
>  
> 
> Notice that the tags have been updated! I assume anyone reading fanfic have pretty much watched S3 by now. I didn't take the "no spoilers" tag down because I want to deal with canon plot, but just so I don't have to be careful.
> 
> Also, notice that the chapter numbers are undetermined now. Basically, when i started this fic I was like "I want angst and smut for 3 chapters" and now that this thing is only growing, I can't say how long it will be yet.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, this chapter deals with breath play!

Lance inhales through his nose, and exhales slowly through his mouth. He’s not sure how, but when he holds his rifle in a ready position like this, he actually feels calm and empty instead of restless and bored. Maybe it’s because he’s watching his team. They’re patrolling down on the ground, while the Marmorians are retrieving the goods. He feels strangely isolated sitting on the mountain side, and yet pretty powerful.

They’re on an ice planet, and Lance’s helmet is frosted over. He has to wipe it off every fifth minute, which breaks his flow of concentration, but so far everything has been silent. The mission is simple; just a retrieval of some minerals that Lotor may or may not be using for something Evil and Sinister™. Either way they’re not interested in letting Lotor having it, especially because it seems like Lotor put in a great amount of effort to keep the transportation of the minerals concealed.

When Lance wipes his helmet for the ninth time, that’s of course when everything blows up. Lotor’s hot squad suddenly appears, probably having hidden themselves in their stupid invisible armors, and Lance only knows because the Princess is suddenly punched ten feet away.

He immediately takes aim and shoots where he thinks the perpetrator might be, and touché, the one called Zethrid of whatever, shows up and snarls in his direction, which means he has been spotted, which means the blind and creepy one, Narti, is probably on her way, if not already here, so he gets up and keeps shooting at where he thinks the others might be concealed (hard to tell since he’s far away and the only thing that gives away their position is the void where the snow flakes are landing on their bodies, but Lance is known to do the impossible).

Of course, that disgusting stupid cat suddenly trips him. He falls over the edge of the mountainside, and rolls down, hitting the ground with a groan. Acxa is down there waiting for him, but as always she has that hesitant look on her face, so he shoots her in the knee before running towards his friends. Acxa is right behind him, shooting back but he runs in zigzag like good ol’ Shiro taught him, so she mostly misses. Narti, however, closely follows Acxa, and he can’t be caught alone with the two of them.

Pidge and Keith is fighting rainbow Harley Quinn, and as always he gets the crazy urge to pull on her multi-colored rat-tail.

That’s of course when he feels the swipe of Narti’s tail underneath his feet, and as he falls, he sees that Acxa has been engaged with Shiro. Lance honestly feels like staying down on the cold snow, but then Cat Satan jumps on top of his chest and he yells in panic and hits it with his rifle and jumps on his feet.

And that’s when he sees a new figure dressed in Galra wear walk towards them. His face is covered as well, and Lance alarms his arrival to his team members. Pidge, who is using their speed and agility to their advantage, has distracted Narti, so Lance has time to aim at the newcomer.

Just as Lance shoots, the newcomer leaps at Allura, who is already quite busy with Zethrid. Lance offers cover, which keeps Zethrid distracted, and Allura starts to fight with the newcomer instead.

Finally there’s the sound of an aircraft taking off, and when he quickly glances up, he sees Kolivan’s aircraft fly away. They’ve gotten the minerals. Great.

Now what.

Zethrid has gotten way too close in his moment of distraction, that’s what. Lance is surely going to get trampled down because she has learned to run in zigzag as well, but Hunk barges into her like a freight train last moment and to avoid the collision, Lance jumps away and collides directly into the newcomer.

It could be worse, this is the guy Lance intended to stop after all, but hand-to-hand combat sort of _really isn’t_ his forte. Lance has the advantage of surprise though, so he hits the guy on his helmet with his rifle, before he’s abruptly being thrown off the man.

He literally snowballs as he quickly rolls over the ground. He wipes his helmet off as soon as he has broken the roll, and suddenly the newcomer is right in front of him, coming at him with his sword. Lance gasps and moves immediately, and he hears the sound of a sword hit the frozen ground. Lance tries to kick at the guy’s knees, but armor is a thing for a reason. He strikes down again and Lance throws up his rifle.

The guy tries to rip away his Bayard, but Lance is stubborn which ends up with Lance being lifted off the ground as the guy tries to shake away the weapon and swiping at Lance’s legs.

He gets a kick in the stomach in, and in some crazy attempt to not be stabbed, Lance curls his legs around the guy’s waist, locking the guy’s armed hand to his side. The move disorients the guy enough to stall his attack, and Lance head-butts their helmets. The guy only punches Lance off him, and Lance would have had to think of new way not to get stabbed while desperately also trying to catch his breath, if Acxa hadn’t yelled: “Prince Lotor, the minerals are getting away!”

Immediately the squad scatters, and since Voltron has reached their goal, Keith orders them back to their Lions. Their appearance is just a distraction after all, and they had to go make sure the Marmorians got away safely, though that is one thing the Marmorians are really good at. Of course, Coran informs them that he has already wormholed the Marmorians, which is _awesome_.

So it’s all in all a victory! Shiro needs bed rest since the guy refuses to go into a healing pod, and maybe Lance would’ve taken that very seriously a year ago, but this time he merely sees it as a chance to break his curfew.

“I’m going out,” Lance notifies, poking his head into Keith’s room. “Be home before morning.”

“Sure, bring your com with you,” Keith tells him, cleaning his Bayard very carefully, his Marmorian sword on the bed besides him.

“Keith?” Lance calls out, suddenly remembering something. “Do you find my neck sexy?”

Keith blinks at his sword for a couple of seconds. Lance enjoys seeing the moment Keith’s mind is turned upside down as he tries to make sense of Lance’s sentence and coming up blank. “What?”

“Like, is it sexy to you?” Lance says, baring it at him.

Keith blinks at him. “Is this about me being Galra.”

“Just answer the question.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Whoever you’ve been banging is a freak all by themselves. Now shoo, this is important.”

He strokes his blade. Lance grimaces and leaves.

\-----

Handsome isn’t there when Lance gets there. However, the dancing floor has just the right amount of dancing bodies, the music is actually enjoyable to human ears (something like a nice consistent flute and a heavy beat).

It’s not the same as back home, but Lance can work with it, so he struts onto the floor. Normally he would start looking for a willing body, but he feels content with himself for now, rolling his body to the melody, pumping his hips and shoulders to the beat, keeping his legs fluid but his arms soft, not going for the party moves today, but for the sultry kind. Huh. Maybe he is looking for a willing body.

It’s not long before he feels hands around his waist, and he turns with a smile. Handsome looks a little tired and tense, so Lance isn’t surprised when Handsome doesn’t dance with him. His hand around Lance’s wrist is hard and he only stops to pick up a bottle from the bar, before leading Lance to the upper floors in the building.

They reach a room without windows, and Lance is immediately thrown onto the bed. Handsome takes off his jacket and shoes, before getting onto the bed. Immediately – as has started to become a little predictable – he goes to nuzzle against Lance’s neck, his hips already grinding against Lance’s.

He seems irritated, and Lance wonders if it’s because of the minerals.

Usually he’s better at not thinking about it, but Handsome must be working for Lotor somehow. It’s after Voltron’s battles with Lotor that the two of them tend to meet the most. While Lotor and his squad are who fought Voltron directly, he usually had shadow troops lurking behind him in case he finds himself in a corner.

To not think about it anymore, Lance glides his hand through Handsome’s hair. “You really like my neck, huh.”

Handsome presses a kiss into it, humming.

Lance bites his lips, heart beating faster as he wonders if he should ask. “Do you, like… Do you want…?”

Handsome looks up. The yellow in his eyes seems to be glowing.

“Do you want to choke me?” Lance finally asks. “I think I would let you, if we had… precautions in place. ‘Cause, you know, my kind’s respiratory system is pretty sensitive. 30 seconds at most.”

Handsome tilts his head. “You would let me?”

“Just for a little while,” Lance says quickly. “Not so that I faint. And if I slap you suddenly, it means you should stop.”

“Sounds manageable,” Handsome says with a small smile. “Anything else?”

Lance meets his eyes. “Press down on the sides of my neck, not the front.”

“Okay.”

“Be careful.”

“I will be.”

Handsome goes to get the lube in the bathroom, and Lance closes his eyes, before eventually sighing and bowing down to his jacket, which is on the floor, to pick up the condoms hidden in the inner pocket.

“What’s that?” Handsome asks, when he gets back. He has taken off his shirt. Even though Lance has seen that beautifully chiseled chest before, it’s rarely seen at a distant and beyond Lance’s reach. Lance’s fingers twitch.

“Condoms,” Lance explains. “It’s a thin rubber sheath the one penetrating puts on their dick as protection against disease or as a contraceptive.”

Handsome stares at him. “Are you able to be impregnated?” he says, suddenly very low and ominous.

Lance rolls his eyes. “Relax, Handsome, I can’t bear children.”

“But none of us are sick,” Handsome says, his tone switching from a low threat to indignation.

“Yes, but I don’t want to scoop out cum out of my asshole every time we do this.” Also Shiro went through great lengths to get to the space mall, and actually gain a currency that would allow him to buy these condoms for him. While Coran has checked Lance out and Lance came out just fine, he would still like to be on the safe side.

Handsome groans. “I knew this was going too well.”

Lance smirks. “Want help putting it on?”

Fifteen minutes later after much arguing (due to Handsome’s insistence that they did not need a condom), they’ve finally gotten the show on the road. Lance is on his back, staring up at Handsome as he stretches Lance out and feeling pretty nervous. Handsome has been holding and cupping Lance’s neck since day one, but never actually pressed down on it hard enough for Lance’s breathing to be affected, so it’s not sure to say that Lance will even like this.

Handsome starts to get annoyed because Lance isn’t relaxing, and Lance gets annoyed because Handsome’s mood is grating on him and this is a pretty vulnerable position to be in, so if Handsome could let up on his gray mood, it’s be great. Otherwise Lance would have to cancel all of this. Cancel Handsome, cancel his dick, and cancel his face.

But finally, Handsome finds that sweet spot and Lance is relaxing as the sensations start to feel more pleasant than invasive. The mattress is so soft underneath his back, and it’s nice, really, to finally be in the privacy of a room. That’s when Handsome puts a hand around Lance’s neck, and squeezes. Lance can breathe, but it’s not a lot. As time goes on his head starts to throb, and Handsome lets go, giving Lance an inquisitive look.

“That was good,” Lance reports back, and Handsome nods. He sits up, and looks like he’s about to push in, when Lance shrieks.

“What are you doing?” he asks. “You’re about to choke me, and you’re not even going to get me worked up first?”

“Why, when you’re so easy to work up anyway?” Handsome dryly answers.

“Shut up and suck my dick,” Lance demands.

“Suck _your_ dick?” Handsome repeats, definitely insulted. “That’s not how things are done where I come from.”

Lance crosses his arms, and closes his legs. “Well that’s how things are in this bed,” he replies.

Handsome glares. “But _why_?”

Lance is about to get really pissed, because this is basic shit, but remembers that not everyone are like him especially so far away from Earth. So he finds his inner Shiro (Pidge is lying, _they’ve all got_ an inner Shiro), and tries to patiently articulate his feelings. “Tonight is about trust,” he explains, and puts his hand on Handsome’s cheek. “Don’t you want me to feel good as well?”

“I do, but as said, it doesn’t take much.”

“But today is different isn’t it?” Lance says. “I’m trusting you with my health. Don’t take my trust for granted, and only think about yourself.”

Handsome leans his face into Lance’s hand, and closes his eyes. It took some time to get used to the cold feeling of Handsome’s skin. Lance has since figured out that when they touch for a long time enough, Handsome’s skin will become lukewarm and once they move together, the Galra will feel like sun warm water sliding along Lance’s skin. When they come together, Lance sinks into a silent world, where everything is just the low rumble of the redundant waves hitting the shore. When they’re in sync, it feels like there’s a stream carrying Lance, making him feel like a floating weightless cloud.

Handsome kisses Lance’s knee, and opens his eyes, silently crawling down between Lance’s legs. Lance bites his lip in anticipation. Handsome looks relaxed and almost lazy as he breathes on Lance’s dick. He puts a hand on Lance’s inner thigh, moving it gently and the other hand lands on Lance’s hipbone.

Handsome’s mouth is surprisingly hot, and Lance inhales sharply with the sensation. The other is careful with his teeth as he suckles on Lance’s head, and Lance has to sit up on his elbows to get a good view, and boy is the view good. Handsome’s plum lips are stretched beautifully, and Lance feels himself flush at the sight. The Galra’s tongue is lapping at Lance’s slit, making Lance tense and gasp for breath. The hand on Lance’s thighs moves inwards, and its fingers wrap around the girth of Lance’s cock, a thumb rubbing the underside of Lance’s cock, making Lance jerk his hips.

Handsome takes it in stride, even as he throws Lance a sharp look. Lance smiles loosely at him, and falls down on his back. Handsome keeps sucking on the head for a moment, before he starts to lower his lips. Lance hisses and bites his finger, when Handsome starts moving his hand. Lance already feels like he’s going to come any second.

“I want you,” Lance huskily whines, “now.”

Handsome gives him a smug smile. “Knew it wouldn’t take long.”

Lance rolls his eyes, and pulls the other into a kiss. “Can’t help it, you sucked me so good,” he whispers.

Handsome wets his lips with his tongue, before instructing: “Spread your legs for me.”

They know each other’s bodies by now. Handsome knows how to tilt his hips just right to make Lance see stars, and Lance knows how Handsome loves Lance’s legs curling around his waist, keeping his member inside. He knows how Handsome loves to grind, like he’s doing right now.

Handsome leans back on his heels to get more movement, and Lance lets his legs spread. It’s rougher than usual, when Handsome starts a rhythm. Lance welcomes the feeling of his lower body being pressed into the mattress, feeling how hot Handsome is inside him. Handsome’s face is slightly dewy, his lips shiny with spit.

“I love your body,” he growls, and his hand clamps down on Lance’s throat, and he suddenly slams his hips forwards, making Lance use too much of his air supply when he cries out. Handsome pounds inside again, and Lance squeezes together his eyes. Handsome is so big inside him, his dick thick enough for Lance to feel the hint of a sting.

Lance whines as Handsome does a particularly hard thrust, and stays deep inside, making Lance clench down on him. He tries to move his hips to get back the friction, but to no avail. His vision is tunneling and his head throbs as Handsome starts to move again, this time with precision. He hits Lance’s sweet spot over and over again and it shouldn’t feel so good, shouldn’t feel better than it usually does, but the lack of oxygen honestly makes Lance’s senses focus more on where the two of them unite, and his hard dick dripping precum on his stomach.

Just when Lance starts to feel dizzy, Handsome lets go. Lance gasps, his arms shaking at his sides, and his legs feeling like noodles as Handsome doesn’t slow down at all, just looks at Lance in heated concentration.

When Lance is close to coming, Handsome squeezes his throat again, experimentally this time, and Lance already feels sore, but it feels too good to try and stop.

A flush is making its way down Handsome’s chest, and unexpectedly the Galra pulls out. Lance whimpers with the empty feeling, and grumbles in protest as he is rearranged onto his stomach, laid flat. Handsome gathers Lance’s legs, and curls an elbow down below Lance’s chest so his hand can comfortably hold Lance’s throat. Lance is drooling a little bit, still feeling a bit woozy.

Handsome is a heavy fuck though, which Lance realizes as the alien enters him again and leans a lot of his body weight on him. The pressure on Lance’s body, especially on top of his chest, makes it difficult to breathe besides the choking that will surely take place soon. Lance puts the palm of his hand on the mattress so he can hit Handsome whenever the need should be, but so far the added closeness only makes Lance feel even more heat.

Lance yells as Handsome continues his brutal pace. It’s not like it hurts more in this position, but it feels like Handsome is able to penetrate him deeper in this position. Lance moans right up until Handsome clamps down on his neck again. His thrusts become harder, hard enough to make Lance’s back ache.

But Lance likes it, even has his throat dries up and tears well up in his eyes. The world is starting to spin, and Lance tries to hump the bed, give himself that little push he so desperately needs. It’s so good and he’s so close, but then Handsome lets go of his neck again, making Lance groan in frustration. Handsome turns Lance’s head to kiss him with an open mouth, but Lance is too heavy-headed to properly kiss him back.

And it keeps going like that. Handsome will choke him and fuck him like an animal, and then suddenly relent on the choking and slow down a little. Every time Lance is done being choked, he feels more dizzy than before, and he wants so badly to come, but Handsome drags it out until Lance is pretty much limp.

Only then does Handsome get his hand around Lance’s erection. He slams in as he reaches up to choke Lance again. His hand is hard and punishing, and it doesn’t take a lot before Lance is coming on the sheets.

Handsome slows down, and Lance thinks he has come, but Handsome is just as hard and continues. He doesn’t start choking Lance again, but he pays no mind to Lance’s spent state as he just continues taking and taking, using Lance’s sore hole like it was his to do so.

When Handsome’s pace starts to stutter, his hand comes down on Lance’s neck. Lance bites his lip as his air supply is again constricted, but it doesn’t take more than three thrusts and then Handsome is coming harder than Lance has ever seen him, his body flinching and shaking on top of Lance.

He lets up on the choking pretty much immediately after he has come, but he’s deadweight afterwards and they just lie there for a while, gasping, before calming down. Lance is curling up against Handsome, who tolerates it, despite his hatred for cuddles.

“You good?” Lance asks. His voice is really hoarse. This is going be difficult to explain to the team, unless Lance could somehow convince Coran to let him go into a healing pod.

“Yes,” Handsome replies. “What about you?”

Lance smiles dazedly. “I’m good.”

Handsome sits up, and goes to the bathroom, his walk ridiculously careful as he tries to not disturb the condom as his deflating dick. When he comes back out, he walks away which Lance is sullen about since he wanted more cuddles (another thing he probably had to explain the Galra). But then of course Handsome comes in with a tube of something and the bottle of alcohol. He pours up two glasses, and puts one on the table besides Lance, before handing Lance the tube.

“For upcoming bruises,” he explains.

Lance nods, and instead takes the glass, drinking a huge gulp just to get his fried nerves to settle down a little bit.

So of course, one hour later, he’s drunk off his ass and bouncing on the bed, in which Handsome is trying to fall asleep on. It’s not long before Lance is kicked out, but that’s alright. Outside the sky is fairly clear but Lance is drunk, so he calls Keith.

“Pick me up,” Lance hollers. “Before you go-go.”

“Lance, I’m sleeping.”

“Yes, but Keith,” Lance whines, “I’m drunk and you don’t want me to drink and drive, do you?”

Keith groans. “The _only_ night Shiro is away, and that’s the night you need to be picked up…” he grumbles, before hanging up.

Lance throws himself on the ground, and stares up at the night sky. For the first time in a month, he actually doesn’t dread going back to the Castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that's the last you'll see of carefree casual sex... next chap will be a shitstorm. Thank you for reading!
> 
> EDIT:
> 
> [ART BY NERBULL (I LOVE YOU, NEVI, YOU'RE SHIT AT KEEPING SECRETS)](http://nerbull.tumblr.com/post/166305852535/scene-straight-out-of-hymnless-a-fic-by)


	4. Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You mind your own business,” Keith snaps at him. “You know damn right you were the one who started all of this.”
> 
> “Keith,” Lance shouts. “Leave Hunk out of this.”

When Lance wakes up he feels like _shit_. Absolutely fucked up. His back aches, his asshole hurts, his throat is sore, his neck feels bruised and the hangover. Oh, the fucking hangover. Did he lick off Satan’s tears himself? What the Hell did Handsome give him?

And then of course, the alarm comes off. Lance blinks his eyes open, and he hates himself, hates the Castle, and hates how damn good his body looks that makes Handsome unable to resist him.

He makes a puny whine once, before eventually standing up and quickly putting on his armor. He leaves his room, and meets with the others in the hallway, but once they get there, Allura is strangely enough not in her armor?

Shiro is already present, looking grave, and Lance is about to ask them what’s going up, when Allura catches his eyes and completely blows her shit.

“Lance!” she yells. “I thought I told you to behave on your little trips?”

“My what now?” Lance asks, but he’s already feeling pretty pissed because she’s shouting for no damn reason and his head hurts. “What did I do now?”

“What did you do?” she recoils, before the anger comes rushing back in. “What did you think you did?”

The Bridge is silent. Even Coran is turning away.

“Now, hold up,” Keith says and steps up to stand between Lance and Allura. “Both me and Shiro authorized Lance’s trips. Yes, he got drunk yesterday, but he still had a good enough judgment not to fly home alone.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Shiro calmly replies. “Princess we should just show them.”

“Yeah, show us,” Pidge speaks up. “I wanna yell at Lance too!”

Shiro gives them a look. Allura, apparently too upset to be present, leaves the Bridge and Coran closely follows her, throwing Lance the saddest look ever and that’s when Lance knows that whatever he did it had been wrong. He doesn’t know how but Coran wouldn’t look like that unless it was really bad.

Shiro’s eyes follow the Princess and Coran, and once they have left, he turns to his (Keith’s?) control panel and draws up a folder.

“There was a leak of information in the Galra’s database four hours ago,” Shiro says as he goes through the files. “Kolivan’s people just sent it over. Apparently there is a mutiny rebelling against Lotor. They are not satisfied with him as a ruler, since he has shown to be far too uninvolved with maintaining the Galras’ colonies. We think it’s this group who leaked this.”

He clicks on a file, and a series of pictures show up in the air, and at first Lance doesn’t understand what he’s seeing, but then the ground sways and he falls down on his ass with the realization that the person on the pictures is _him_. More specifically: him and Handsome.

The most recent pictures have been taken just yesterday featuring Lance and Handsome on the dance floor, Handsome’s arms around Lance’s waist, Lance smiling softly with closed eyes. Another one shows Handsome pressing Lance up against the wall, Lance’s leg around the man’s hip as they make out. There are only two pictures from Alctor, and both were taken while Lance and Handsome were in the pond. In the first picture Lance is on Handsome’s lap, his mouth open in a moan and Handsome’s face pressed against Lance’s neck. The water conceals most of their naked bodies, but it is very clear what’s going on. In the other ones, Lance has been turned, Handsome draped on top of him, his eyes closed and his wet hair fanning over Lance’s shoulders and back.

“What,” Lance says, his throat dried up. “I don’t understand. Why would people take pictures of that?”

Instead of answering, Shiro taps on the twin file in the folder, and only two pictures unfold this time. One of them is Lance in his armor, his helmet in his arm as he smiles cockily at somebody. The other one is of Handsome, only Handsome is wearing Lotor’s armor, sitting in Lotor’s jet.

“No. Nonononono.” He can’t believe it.

Shiro quickly hides away the files, and for a while nobody says anything. It’s odd for not even for Pidge to come with an inappropriate comment. Lance doesn’t know how to react. His stomach is curdling and twisting with horror, and he’s not sure what he’s the most horrified about. The mere fact that there is revenge porn of him out there, the fact that all of the Galra have now seen his face, or the fact that _he has been sleeping with Lotor._

“Kolivan believes it’s to damage Lotor’s reputation and make the Galra lose their faith in him,” Shiro quietly explains. “However, this will damage us severely if our allies ever come to see this.”

Lance doesn’t know what to say. “I didn’t know,” he finally settles on admitting.

And that seems to be enough for Hunk. “That’s not fair of the Princess to get mad about,” he argues. “How was Lance supposed to know? Zarkon’s son looks nothing like most Galra. Oh, and you, Galra Keith.”

That sentence alone makes Lance shiver. God. Zarkon’s _son_.

Keith doesn’t even roll his eyes. He only stares at the holograms with a stricken and slightly angry expression.

Shiro gives Lance a long look. “You must at least have suspected that he was Galra.”

“I knew,” Lance quietly admits. “I just thought he was another minion. There’re… Many of the Galra are just doing their jobs, you know? They don’t know better. I mean. More and more Galra are joining the resistance since we showed up, right? I figured he didn’t believe in his job, since…”

Lance’s voice fades.

“He does not really look like the standard Galra,” Shiro says, his voice heavy. “And Kolivan’s people say that he has made it a point to dress neutrally when he isn’t on mission. But we have to consider the fact that this might have been a trap all along.”

Lance shakes his head. “It can’t be. He was mad about the minerals, and if he had known who I was he would definitely have tried to get the information out of me.”

Keith looks at him. “You’re sleeping with somebody who you know would hurt you if they knew who you were?”

Lance scratches his neck. “It sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“Because it is!” Keith exclaims. “For the love of God, Lance.”

“Hey!” Hunk interrupts.

“You mind your own business,” Keith snaps at him. “You know damn right you were the one who started all of this.”

“Keith,” Lance shouts. “Leave Hunk out of this.”

Shiro and Pidge are frowning at them.

“What’s going on?” Shiro very slowly asks.

Hunk scowls at Keith. “I’m still his best friend, so you can go mind your own, Keith!”

Keith’s nostrils flare, which means he’s getting ready for a fight, but then Allura and Coran reenter the Bridge, and the argument is dropped in favor of not upsetting the Princess any further. Coran is pulling a table trolley stacked with weird medical equipment, and a patient bench, both hovering in the air.

“Strip,” the Princess orders Lance, not coldly but definitely not relenting either. Coran probably talked her down.

Lance bites his lip, suddenly remembering his neck and the salve he never ended up using. “I don’t think –“

She glares at him.

Lance closes his eyes, and starts to strip off his armor.

Shiro clears his throat. “I’m going to go talk to …” His voice fades as Lance pulls his undersuit down his shoulders and off his legs. His cheeks are warm with shame, and he can only stare at the floor as the room goes silent. Looking down only makes him notice his bruised hips and thighs, and that makes him want to wince.

Coran settles him on the patient bench, and starts putting sticky patches all over his body.

“You’re all welcome to take your leave,” Coran says to the team, perhaps a bit sharply. “I can take it from here.”

Lance silently thanks the man for the privacy. Pidge is the first one to stumble out, closely followed by the rest. Allura is the last one to go, shooting Lance a disappointed look, which is even worse than the cold fury.

When Coran and he are alone, Coran works in silence. When Lance can’t stand it anymore, he nervously asks: “What does this thing do?”

“It scans and monitors each cell in your body,” Coran answers. “It craves a lot of quintessence, so that’s why we’re doing it on the Bridge since the concentration of Quintessence is highest here.”

“Why do you want my cells monitored?” Lance asks.

Coran doesn’t answer right away. “Well, normally we would use a healing pod, since it both scans and heals at the same time. But due to the delicacy of the situation, we must use this, the Meknitu. This will detect any infection or contaminations. It will also detect the slightest sign of mutation or nanite invasion. But what the Princess and I fear the most, is that there has been planted biochemical trackers or self-destructive time bombs in your cells.”

Lance swallows. “How is that even possible?”

“Well, I assume you have both drunk and eaten with him, correct?” Coran says ‘him’ in the darkest tone. “He might’ve spiked your drink with a little something.”

Lance nods silently. “How long will I have to wear it?”

Coran sighs. “If it doesn’t find anything, a varga or two.”

Lance closes his eyes. “Seems like I’m dragging the team down again.”

Coran doesn’t answer, and Lance is thankful that he doesn’t. He doesn’t need the Altean to lie to him. Lance knows he made a lot of process in a lot of ways when Shiro had been gone. After all, Keith had been set on sulking in his room and Allura had been busy with allies. Lance didn’t only have to take leadership; he also had to really get his shit together with his combat training, since Keith often wasn’t on the field with them.

He had advanced, but not enough. He thought he could be the Black paladin for a while, but the only thing that got him was losing Blue. Not that he isn’t happy with Red; she’s a fierce yet kind creature, protective and so full of wordless love. But it hadn’t been what he wanted. It seems like every time he set a goal, it always ended up with an ambiguous result. He wanted to be the Black Paladin, but ended up as the Red one instead. He fell in love with the best guy ever, but the guy loved him as his best friend. He wanted to fuck his problems away, but he just ended up literally fucking more into existence.

“Lance.”

When Lance looks up, Coran puts his hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” the Altean says.

A lump starts to grow in Lance’s throat, and his lower lip starts to tremble, his absolute worst tell.

“Did Lotor do this to you?” Coran asks, a gentle finger on Lance’s neck.

Lance looks down, and tries to discreetly sniff. “He didn’t force me or anything. I gave him permission to go ahead.”

Content with the answer, Coran starts to massage a salve into Lance’s skin.

\----

When the Meknitu has finished scanning his body and has come up clear, Allura tries to interrogate Lance as much as possible. Lance keeps coming up blank, because besides the fact that Lotor always showed up after a battle with the Galra, he hadn’t let any other tell about himself slip.

Lance’s headache has grown twice its size, when the Castle’s systems start to beep, a sign that someone sent them a message, probably a distress signal.

Allura turns to decrypt it, but before she even has time to, the message flares up and suddenly Handsome’s face shows up in a surprisingly humble sized hologram.

Not Handsome. Lotor.

He looks as infuriated as Lance is upset. It’s weird to see him like this; his lips are tight, face cut in stone and eyes as cold as frostbites.

“I was going to defeat Voltron to show that I was superior to my father,” Lotor says, his voice low and cutting. “I never felt any personal vengeance towards you, and I could care less about the Empire. But this?”

Allura crosses her arms, staring meanly at Lotor.

“It cannot be forgiven,” Lotor hisses. “You better enjoy yourself while you can, Blue Paladin, because I will find you and when I do I will make sure to peel the skin of your body and throw the rest of you to my starving beasts.”

With that, the message closes and Lance wants to throw up.

“Well, that answers the question if this was all a trap,” Pidge very dryly remarks.

Allura is looking a little relieved to be fairly honest, and when she turns around to look at Lance, she looks shocked. “Do you need to sit down?” she asks. “You’ve become all pale.”

She puts a warm hand on Lance’s cheek, and Lance flinches back.

“Lance,” Hunk calls out and Lance wants to cry and get a hug, but he also wants to run away and hide in his room and never leave. Terror makes his stomach roll. For the first time in a long time, Lance believes he is going to die.

Hunk stands up, and slowly nears Lance. Lance can’t move, frozen in fear for his life, for his friends’ lives, and for his family’s back on Earth.

Hunk is close now, and puts a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“I’m going to be sick,” Lance warns, and Hunk quickly grabs a wastebasket for Lance to throw up in.

\----

Lance sleeps for the next seven hours. He’s surprised that Allura allows it during all of this, but perhaps it’s a good thing for Lance to stay out of the way while she does what is necessary for the pictures not to be leaked.

When Lance is back on the Bridge, the pictures are gone. A combination of the Galra database being nothing like the Internet – since their system is set up for dictatorship, there’re measures in place to make sure that the people in charge are able to always control the information coming out.

The others have gone back to bed, so Lance is left to his own devices. At least he won’t see what degree of condemnation they have for him now.

He feels better after having rested. Still terrified and wronged, but also more objective and it’s all so clear to him, like when they found Shiro and they had one Paladin too many.

If he approaches Lotor first, the probability of Lotor killing his friends, and in worse case, enslave his planet, is very low. He will be too focused on Lance and making him pay for what the Galra obviously thinks is a setup, to be menacing and murderous. Because Lance knows that at the end of the day, no matter how upset the Princess is with him, she would never let Lotor have him. She would rather die and the Paladins would rather fall in battle, before they’d let Lotor get his hands on Lance.

And if there’s anything Lance knows about Lotor, is that he is a persistent and slippery motherfucker. Zarkon was thirsty for power, which made him a good ruler, but his personal and deep vengeance blinded him. And as Lotor had remarked in the message, his ploy had been nothing personal. Sometimes Lance even got the feeling that it was all a game to Lotor, so Lance is not looking forwards to seeing how Lotor treats the people he actually hates.

Because he is going to find out. There’s no way in Hell he’s staying here. He’s not hiding until the Castle is burning. He’s not going to wait until Pidge’s glasses are broken on the floor, or Keith’s Marmorian sword is left to never be picked up again. They were one too many Paladins, and Lance is the most useless one. This way Keith could back to Red, and Shiro could go back to Black.

\----

Lance would like to think that the decision is just that simple to him. He can see what’s best for Voltron, and what is best for the universe, and like the brave and noble Keith he sets out to do just that. Maybe that’s why the Black Lion picked Keith instead of him to follow in Shiro’s footsteps. Maybe they both knew that in the end Lance is a coward.

But in the end, Lance stops hesitating in the pod he has taken so many times before to go see Lotor. In a way it’s ironic: The last time he uses it, will be to do what he always does.

He signals for the hangar gates to open, but everything starts beeping instead and Lance groans and throws himself back in his seat. His good luck continues. He climbs out of the pod, only to freeze when he sees Hunk stand there, scowling at him.

“I can’t believe you actually did it,” he exclaims. “Or you know what? I knew you would fucking do it!”

Lance makes an unintelligible sound of outrage, but before he can answer Hunk has marched over to him and pulled him into a hug. Frankly, it’s weird. Lance hasn’t been close to Hunk since he started dating Shay. And Lance wasn’t alone in avoiding Hunk; as soon as the big guy had realized what was up, he had started avoiding Lance as well. Tried to give him time, probably, space.

And Lance wants to say he doesn’t feel anything as he is held. He wants to say he’s over it, and Lotor has crawled far enough into his asshole for Hunk to be a second thought.

But the truth is, Lance still feels hurt, and still loves. He doesn’t want to lose Hunk. Hunk is his best friend, and the loneliness was one of the factors that drove Lance to chase the high Lotor provided him.

“I love you,” Hunk whispers, and his voice is full of sand and mountain dust. “I know I pushed you too far. I just wanted you to be there for me. But I shouldn’t have put you through that, and I’m sorry.”

Lance just closes his eyes, and exhales shakily.

\----

Eventually Hunk convinces Lance to go back to his room. He offers to sleep in Lance’s room, but Lance knows he’s not there yet, and begs off the offer. He can’t sleep again, and tries to distract himself by filing his nails, doing a detox mask and some light exercises but he can’t help but try to leave, only to see Keith’s grouchy face waiting for him outside his door. Lance quickly retreats.

\----

They receive a distress signal four hours later. Lance has never seen the Princess hesitate in aiding someone as much as now. He doesn’t miss the worried glances she shoots him as she looks over the message again and again. The planet is nearby, and the population is known to be peaceful. But the Altean database is 10,000 years old, and they can’t trust the information all the time.

Keith ends up deciding that they should form Voltron and approach the planet. Forming Voltron isn’t always the smartest move when approaching a Galra-invaded planet, but it’s better than being split up. Allura wants Lance to stay on the ship with Shiro and Coran, but the ship has been invaded before and Lance can’t stand the thought of Coran or Shiro getting hurt if this turned out to be a trap. Lance would be more secure as Voltron’s arm than anything.

So they fly as Voltron to the planet, only to see that the planet has been dead for decades. Keith has just enough time to alert Shiro, when fireworks go off.

Lance finds himself weirdly mesmerized at the sight. The fireworks look like dandelions; champagne and sparkly, their arms dropping like willow-branches as they descend on Voltron’s limps. Lance finds himself unable to move, and he feels the same freezing horror bloom in his teammates’ minds.

Slow horror pours into his mind like a flood, as he fights for control, but then the fireworks explode once more with colorful central bursts, and everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's an annoying place to end it but next chap should be up soon enough!


	5. Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Does this turn you on, you sick fuck?” Lance asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, warnings!  
> A little torture, dubious consent (considering this chapter's power dynamic), tiny bit of violence and threats, and accidental voyeurism.  
> Also, thank you for all of the comments last chapter. I love to hear you guys thoughts, and they keep me going ^^

Lance is waking up because someone is pulling his helmet off. He blinks dizzily as his head is pulled free, and barely has time to properly open his eyes, before he’s smacked across the face.

He groans, and tries to shield his face with his hands, only to find them numb. He wiggles his fingers. His arms are held up and tied to the ceiling, his wrists are bound tightly together, and his feet barely touching the ground.

In front of him is Zethrid, and she does not look pleased. Actually, for a pretty aggressive person, Zethrid rarely looks angry. But now she does. As a matter of fact, she looks absolute pissed.

“Stop,” someone orders behind Zethrid, and the voice belongs to Acxa. “We need his face. Punch elsewhere.”

“Gladly,” Zethrid smirks and punches Lance in the stomach. The armor takes the blunt of it, but Lance still exaggerates like his mama taught him to make sure they won’t hit him any harder than that.

It seems like they need him alive for now, and knowing the Galra, it’s probably for public execution purposes, so Lance makes sure to whine and moan when Zethrid hurts him.

When Lance is starting to feel difficulties breathing, Acxa stops Zethrid and they both look at him hanging there with disgusted looks. 

“You’re going to pay for this,” Acxa very calmly and clearly says.

“Bish – “ Lance starts to answer. 

“Don’t,” Keith’s voice interrupts from the other side of the hall, and Lance’s face snaps up at the sound. If Keith is here, the others are probably as well. Thinking back, Lance doesn’t actually remember what happened, only that something had shocked Voltron enough to paralyze the Paladins.

Lance remembers that his words don’t only carry consequences for him right now, so he very maturely closes his mouth and gives Acxa a nasty glare instead.

“We'll find the photographers,” Acxa says. “They are Galra.”

No shit.

“There were infiltrators and spies among the Galra before Zarkon fell,” Acxa coolly continues. “We know Voltron is working with them. Tell me their names, and Zethrid will stop hitting.”

Lance narrows his eyes at her, and bites his lip.

Zethrid crushes her hand around his wrist and he screams for real as he can feel the bone bend as she makes to break it.

Lance shouts: “Alright, I’ll tell you, don’t break my arm!”

Zethrid looks disappointed, but stands back. Lance knows he can’t afford to have his arm broken; sure, he’s ambidextrous, but his entire body weight is hanging from his arms right now and he’s not sure he can endure hanging off a broken arm for who knows how long.

“They’re not our people,” Lance confesses.

“He’s lying!” Zethrid yells, and kicks Lance in the kneecap. Lance screams and feels tears run down his face.

“Wait,” Acxa commands, and Zethrid almost stomps in frustration. “What are you saying?”

God, it’s so hot in there. His knee is throbbing and his cheek is starting to swell. Sweat is rolling down his forehead; translucent pearls, salt from the sea.

“I said the photographers aren’t any of ours!” Lance exclaims. “Just think about it for a moment; how would we benefit from the photos being leaked?”

Acxa narrows her eyes, and says: “You know more. Zethrid?”

But a voice interrupts behind Lance. It’s deep and slower than Lance anticipated, so it scares him when he hears it.

“That’s enough for now,” Lotor says behind him. “Leave the cell. Now.”

\----

Lance breathes in deeply as he feels Lotor move behind him. He tries to move his fingers, but they barely twitch. His heart starts to beat faster, and he gets the impulse to run, to get far away from there because he knows Lotor is dangerous. He has always known; after all, that had been part of the thrill.

He hears the thud of Keith probably beating his Bayard into the wall. “Don’t fucking touch him, Lotor!”

Lance silently curses Keith and his family because now Lotor definitely wants to do damage.

Something cold and sharp is pressed against his neck, and Lance tries his hardest not to swallow. The sweat has gotten cold on his forehead. Lance can’t even feel the other’s body heat.

“Who took the pictures?” Lotor very lowly asks.

“Like I said, not any of ours,” Lance withstands, his voice hoarse.

“Then why were the pictures taken?”

Lance frowns. “Because no one likes you?”

Lotor punches him lightning quick in the ribs, and Lance loses the breath in his lungs. The blade at Lance’s throat slices and Lance tries not to cough to let it dig into his skin any deeper.

“Who was it?” Lotor asks.

“We have no fucking idea!” Lance yells back. Lotor’s chest presses against Lance’s back, and Lance swallows. A drop of blood drips down his neck. He closes his eyes, and holds his breath.

“Did you know?” Lotor asks, and his voice might as well be a whisper.

Lance shakes his head. “No.”

The blade disappears and Lance exhales. He’s shaking all over.

Lotor steps out in front of him, and it’s weird to see Handsome’s face on Lotor’s body. It makes Lance realize that this is real. Handsome is Lotor. Why does that hurt?

“We were both set up,” Lance continues. “You’ve gotten yourself a splinter group.”

Lotor smiles sharply, but doesn’t reply.

Lance looks down and blinks the sweat out of his eyes.

“Well, I should set them straight, shouldn’t I?” Lotor suggests, and turns to leave.

“Hey, can you let down my arms?” Lance calls out after him. “Pretty sure they’ll fall off soon.”

Lotor turns and glares at him. He clearly isn’t sure whether Lance is exaggerating or not, but after a moment, he says: “Why would I care?”

Lance can’t help but wiggle his eyebrows and leer.

“You think this is funny?” Lotor asks, and his voice is genuinely angry.

“Don’t answer that,” Keith’s voice calls out.

“Can somebody have the Red Paladin removed?” Lotor calls out in annoyance, and Lance exclaims “Why?” but then there’s the sound of Keith being dragged out, yelling and snapping. When Keith’s voice is gone, Lotor sighs and drawls: “The rest of you can leave as well.”

Hesitant heavy footsteps follow shortly after, and the door is closed shut. Lance looks back at Lotor, and the same old familiar thrill is making all of his senses sharper.

Lotor puts his hand on his hip, and glares at Lance. “You know, our target was you,” Lotor drawls. “But the red Paladin followed you even as he, like the other Paladins, saw their means for escape.”

“Okay?” It’s something Keith would do. He would never let Lance be kidnapped in front of his eyes, without trying to stop it.

Lotor narrows his eyes at Lance and starts to circle him like a shark. “The question is whether I’m going to have you killed in front of my men to set an example,” he says, behind Lance at the end of the sentence, “or use you as bait.”

Lance looks at the floor. He wants to say that his team wouldn’t let either happen, and he trusts they won’t, but he knows he needs to give them a little more time. “That’s the thanks I get for having the pictures deleted, huh,” he finally comes up with.

“To save your own honor,” Lotor replies.

Lance clenches his jaw. “You think you’re the only one humiliated by all of this?” he hisses.

A hand grabs Lance around the hipbone, and clenches down. Lance exhales sharply. “You don’t understand the Galra way.” Lotor’s voice is merely a mutter, rough like gravel against Lance’s soft skin.

“So change your lifestyle,” Lance answers, just as low. Lotor’s fingers are making bruises in Lance’s flesh.

Lotor presses even closer, and Lance can feel the unmistakable feeling of a bulge pressed against his ass.

“Does this turn you on, you sick fuck?” Lance asks.

Lotor grinds, and Lance gasps. This is his chance. Distraction. Buying time.

He relaxes his body and lets Lotor hold on to him.

“Are you scared?” Lotor whispers into his ear.

“Takes more than weak dick to scare me,” Lance replies and Lotor growls, grinding harder. Lance leans his head back, bares his neck invitingly and Lotor scoffs, but it’s not long before Lance can feel his familiar cold lips slide over the arch of his neck.

Lance sighs, and feels relieved, almost, without knowing why. Lotor tugs at his belt and loosens it, dropping it on the floor before fumbling fingers look for a way to open the armor pieces. Lance shouldn’t really tell Lotor how to loosen the armor pieces and shuck off the undersuit, but he’s still very impatient as Lotor finally takes off the armor pieces.

Lotor gets the pants off and Lance whines, shrugging at his cuffs and Lotor chuckles behind him.

“My arms are gonna fall off!” Lance complains.

“Shush,” Lotor mumbles, and his hands feel like the first night they fucked: cold spiders sliding down the dents of his rips, and his soft stomach, following the lines of his hipbones to rest his fingers on Lance’s dick.

He rubs with the heel of his hand, and Lance sighs, rubbing his ass against Lotor’s crotch.

“You want it, don’t you,” Lotor hisses, grabbing Lance’s face with one hand and holding it tight as his other hand cups Lance’s cock, making Lance gasp. “Admit it.”

“Please,” Lance whispers back and tries to gain enough momentum to rub against Lotor’s bulge, only for Lotor to suddenly pull away.

“I should kill you for all the trouble you’ve given me,” Lotor bitterly mumbles and Lance feels something hard smack into his ass.

Lance cries out, his hardening dick going soft as the sting makes his whole butt cheek flare in burning pain. Tears well up in his ears as he twists to move away from Lotor’s range.

Another smack hits his other ass cheek, and that feels even worse. Lance hates every second of it, hates the way his back suddenly feels clammy and how he thinks the second wound has started bleeding.

“Stop!” Lance yells. “Stop, fuck, stop, it hurts.”

His voice breaks and he tries not to sob. This is too much, he can’t hang here and try to be fucked and be hurt and worry about Keith and his team at the same time.

Lotor touches his waist, and Lance wordlessly yells at him, trying to flinch away from the touch only for Lotor to press back in again.

Lance tries to kick him, but Lotor forces an arm around Lance’s chest. It’s too strong and too cold, and Lance head butts Lotor’s face, just as the grip on Lance’s wrists give and Lance falls down on his ass, Lotor on top of him. Lance immediately jabs an elbow in Lotor’s face, his hands still bound together but at least his arms are free now, and Lotor struggles with him for a brief moment, before succeeding in rolling Lance onto his back. Lotor presses his hands into Lance’s shoulders, keeping Lance’s chest pressed down to the ground. He straddles Lance’s hips.

Lance is lying on his wounds though and the pain of the injuries urges him to buck his hips and push against Lotor’s hands. At some point, Lotor had taken off his own chest armor plate, and that supplies Lance the give to do a body roll. Lotor lands gracefully, and he doesn’t try to roll Lance over. His hands clamp down on Lance’s sides, and he catches Lance’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Don’t be mad.”

Lance stares very madly at him, because how the fuck is a sorry supposed to help him, but soon he gives up on his anger and slumps down. His butt cheeks are still throbbing with pain, he’s butt-naked and what the hell is he doing –

Lotor puts his hand on Lance’s head and pushes him into a kiss. It should be wrong, but it doesn’t feel that way and Lotor’s tongue is a cool welcome in his mouth, the Galra’s hands gliding around Lance’s body like strobe lights.

When Lotor pulls back, he goes to lick Lance’s neck and Lance writhes with the care at his sensitive spots.

“I’m still mad,” Lance stubbornly informs Lotor.

“Don’t be,” Lotor says, almost a little teasingly. “I’ll suck your dick.”

But Lance feels too restless for that. He wants that dick now, and he says that to Lotor, and when Lotor informs he didn’t bring lube Lance is two minutes away from stomping impatiently on the ground.

“Then get lube!” Lance yells and stands up.

“Stop ordering me around, you are _my_ prisoner,” Lotor reminds him.

Nonetheless he stands up and walks to the door, throwing Lance a glare as it slides closed and locks it.

Lance waits restlessly and as he does so, he pokes his wounds and hisses with pain. They’re deep scratches, and it has long since stopped bleeding, but the sting feels bad. Lance throws a heavy glance at the chains that held him, but the cell is otherwise quite empty. There’s a drain. It’s probably a torture chamber. Sexy.

Without Lotor to distract him, he notices how cold it is in here, and has to eventually pulls on his undersuit again and settles in a corner. Not because of shelter, but to feel less vulnerable. He waits.

His dick is softening though, so he rubs himself to keep him going. But alone, he has to confront a prominent question: What the fuck he is doing? Does he really want this or is he doing it because he’s a prisoner and he feels like he has no other choice?

He doesn’t know; his feelings aren’t clear. But he feels like this might be the former more than the later. Lotor had tried to hurt him, but he had _stopped_ when Lance had asked him to and a jailer wouldn’t do that.

Of course, this could be a trap. But how? How would it benefit Lotor in any way to sleep with him again now that he knows who Lance was, and Lance knows who he is?

And how would sleeping with Lotor benefit Lance? Is he only sleeping with Lotor because he fears he might get hurt otherwise?

He tries to examine his feelings, but honestly he had only feared Lotor once the Galra hit him, but when Lotor had immediately stopped, Lance had felt relieved that Lotor still respected his boundaries in some way. And he isn’t afraid right now; only afraid that one of the Generals would come back.

Lance rubs his face. He feels frustrated and a tiny bit shameful, but he only feels the shame because he knows he shouldn’t do this. It’d be stupid of him to sleep with Lotor again, and now he has no excuse to do so.

When Lance hears the door to his cell being opened, he’s ridiculously relieved.

Lotor had a way at blowing all feelings and thoughts out of his head, and that’s what he desperately needs right now. He doesn’t want to think about it right now; he needs to do this, he craves it, and cowardly as he is, he can’t ponder about how wrong it would be.

Lotor looks back at him, as if he too has been wondering what the fuck he is doing. There’s certainly something hesitant in his eyes, and so they stare at each other for what feels like a small eternity, and Lance’s head is blank.

He stands up, and Lotor closes the door behind him, before meeting him halfway.

He knows Lotor. He knows that that’s stupid, but he knows what Lotor wouldn’t do to hurt him.

Lotor pulls him into a kiss. His lips are tender against Lance’s, his embrace soft. Lance’s former thoughts, his reluctance, are already in the back of his head, blowing away like paper-thin umbrellas. The house of him is shaking as if rattled by a storm, threatening his being with tsunamis he’s not sure he will survive. This isn’t smart, and it isn’t brave.

But Lance hasn’t ever been any of those things, has he?

“Is it too late to take you up on that offer?” he whispers into Lotor’s ear, and the other’s breath hitches, his teeth pulling at Lance’s earlobe. Lance knows that Lotor is stronger and more dangerous than Lance. If he decides to kill Lance, he could do it. God, what is Lance _doing_?

“Please,” he whispers, and an abrupt pain in his neck makes him cry out. Lotor’s teeth are deep in Lance’s skin. He shakes as Lotor sucks like a freaking leech or something, before purring and moving his head downwards. Lance’s hands come to rest against the wall, as Lotor once again pulls his undersuit pants down.

Lotor swallows him down, and Lance groans, throwing his head down. His neck is throbbing where Lotor bit him. It feels swollen and bleeding, and for a moment Lance is not sure whether that’s where his heart really is.

The pleasure fills Lance’s head like smoke. Lotor pulls at Lance’s shirt as he starts bopping his head, but Lance can’t concentrate enough to pull it off. Lotor looks up at him, his eyes yellow and blue. Lance never noticed Lotor’s irises before now. Never seen that shade of blue before.

Lotor’s hands crawl up the concave of his spine, and it makes Lance’s writhe.

Then two fingers push at his hole, and he whispers: “Yes, yes.”

They’re wet as they plunge in, but there’s still a sting. Lotor’s mouth is heating up around him, and Lance feels his face become hot, as he starts to roll his hips. Lotor lets him do it, and Lance rides his mouth and fingers, feeling desperate and small, but who cares what’s right when it feels like this.

Lance’s knees are shaking, when Lotor abruptly lets go of him and stands up.

“I need you now,” he says, and pulls down his pants. He grabs Lance’s legs and Lance gasps in surprise as he is lifted up, his back semi-supported by the wall. Lotor grabs his own cock in hand, finds Lance’s entrance and pushes in.

Lance yowls at the sting and how gravity plunges Lance down too quickly, but pain is pretty much the same as pleasure at this point. He doesn’t really need to support himself anywhere, since Lotor’s grip is pretty secure, so he relaxes and enjoys the ride.

The world shakes around them as Lotor starts to roll his hip. Lance can barely keep his eyes open but his cock is hard, so he reaches down to start stroking, since he’s pretty sure he won’t last long anyway. Lotor doesn’t protest, just stares at Lance’s hips as he tilts their figures and starts a quick tempo.

He looks up and stares into Lance’s eyes as Lance moans. Everything is loud and silent at the same time, and again Lance thinks of being submerged in the deep blue. Everything is twisting around them, and Lance is caught up in a strong wave, can’t do anything but let it move him –

The door to the chamber is opened, and Shiro is standing there.

His arm is glowing, ready to fight, and when he sees them, he freezes. Lotor stills against him, and starts to turn his head, and Lance grabs his face without thought.

“Don’t look at him,” he growls. “Look at _me_.”

Lotor is pulling away from him, his face twisted in a snarl and Lance throws himself forwards, curling his arms and legs around Lotor’s figure, grabbing Lotor by the hair.

“Get Keith,” he calls out for Shiro, and pushes Lotor’s mouth against his neck. Lotor growls and his body tenses, pushes Lance back into the wall. Lance groans in pain, but keeps holding Lotor tight.

The door behind them slides closed, and Lotor yells, slamming into Lance and Lance clenches down in return.

Desperate sex develops into angry sex as Lotor rams into Lance again and again, but Lance feels more powerful than ever and honestly, it’s getting him off. He strokes himself too quickly and harshly, and comes as Lotor bites into his neck again. Lotor groans and comes too after a few thrusts, his cock buried deep and his body still as he heavily breathes into Lance’s neck. Lance is dizzy with the aftershocks, and whines as the feeling of pleasure fades and leaves the pain in his neck and his ass cheeks.

But when Lotor looks down at him, looking kind of pissed? God, Lance has never felt so satisfied.

\----

“What was that?” Lance asks as he pulls up his undersuit pants. Lotor had let him use the bathroom so Lance could clean himself, since ugh, no condom, and had seemed none-caring if Lance would take the chance to escape or not, but then again, even he wouldn’t do the walk of shame naked. “The energy that caught Voltron. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Lotor answers, already in his armor, and leaning against the wall with crossed arms.

He hasn’t hit the alarm yet or told any of his Generals that Shiro is wandering around. Or maybe he already did, and Lance just didn’t notice. The thought makes his stomach clench in discomfort. He needs to get out; Shiro is one of the best fighters Lance knows, along with Allura, but Lance doesn’t want to leave him out there alone anyway.

Lance didn’t really expect an honest answer, but he quirks an eyebrow at Lotor anyway. “Well, I figure that that much Quintessence? Takes years to build up. Congratulations, you played yourself.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Lotor hisses and slaps Lance’s abused ass, which makes Lance jump and grudgingly turn the other way to change. But Lance can tell from Lotor’s sullen face that he’s probably right.

“I was referring to a meme,” Lance pouts. “The energy looked like fireworks. It was pretty.”

Lotor squints at him. “What are fireworks?”

Lance pulls on the undersuit shirt, so his voice is muffled when he replies: “It’s explosions in pleasing colors and patterns my species set off in the sky.”

“Why?”

“Aesthetic reasons. My species do a lot for beauty,” Lance answers and winks at Lotor. “I like your firework the best though. It reminds me of a flower back home.” Lance finishes putting on his armor and looks at Lotor. “Am I free to go?”

Lotor stares at him with a sour expression on his face. “Is everyone on your planet as careless as you?” he slowly asks. “You give up your body to the enemy, and it doesn’t bother you?”

Lance recoils, and maybe it’s the anger and indignation, that makes him ask: “You think this is me not caring?”

“It certainly appears so,” Lotor confirms.

“Stay in your lane, Lotor,” Lance replies and turns to the door. “You have no idea how this is affecting me.”

And that promptly pisses Lotor off even more. “You think your guilt greater than mine?”

“Yes, I do,” Lance calmly answers, stopping. But bitterness and that darn shame returns, so he turns around and says: “It’s not like anybody expects you to be a good person, _Prince_.”

“They expect me loyal to my purpose,” Lotor replies sharply.

“Which you’ve already proved to them that you aren’t,” Lance harshly replies. “Remember the pictures, the shit that started all of this?”

Lotor doesn’t answer, just glares at him.

“Do you understand the amount of trust I have placed on my shoulders, that I’m betraying right now? Not only from my team, but the fucking universe as well?” Lance is shouting. He is so angry his throat hurts. “You think I would’ve chosen Voltron if there had been any other choice?”

Very coolly Lotor replies: “You chose this. Us.” His voice gains strength, as he continues: “I never forced myself on you, _Paladin_ , and I’ve never enslaved any populations on the planets I’ve been given.”

Lance narrows his eyes. “Wow, do you want a cookie? Because I did my homework, and you were literally given the planets that were easier to establish trades with than to enslave.”

“I could’ve enslaved them if I really wanted to.”

“What a good person that makes you.”

They’re both silent but angry for long moments.

“You’re free to go,” Lotor says, his voice emotionless. “But do not expect any special treatment from now on. I will kill you in battle if I see the opportunity.”

And despite their exchange of hard words, that actually hurts to hear. But Lance knows it’s for the better. “You’ll let my friends go as well. And we’ve gotten the pictures deleted from the database, so I expect you to take care of the ones who took them.”

Lotor looks away. “Consider it done.”

And Lance leaves.


	6. Thinking about you late at night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance gets over Lotor, but the universe hates him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance has a brief sexual encounter with an OC in this fic. Tell me if some of you need to have that tagged or something?
> 
> Also there are three songs in mind during the dancing scenes, which might help listening to while reading:  
> Rihanna - Work  
> Kevin Lyttle - Turn Me on  
> Sean Paul - Temperature

Lance finds Keith and Shiro on the hallway between his chamber and the other prison cells. Sweating and flushed, they’re surrounded by bots obviously frozen in the middle of battle mode. When they see Lance they immediately walk up to his side.

"What's going on?" Shiro inquires and he sounds calm, but Lance can see the resentment in his eyes.

"We're free to go," Lance answers, his body aching more with every minute that passes by.

Shiro thankfully is professional enough not to bring up what he saw as they run towards the hangar, and take one of the pods. They take off rather anticlimactically with Keith in the pilot seat, and only when they're far away does the adrenaline fade, and Lance falls into one of the passenger seats. His face is sore, his wrist is blue and swollen, and it still hurts to breathe.

"Lance," Shiro says, his voice heavy.

"Don't… " Lance's voice breaks.

Shiro stares at the floor. "Did he do something you didn't want?"

Lance shakes his head. "No, he... He's not a good person, but... He would never hurt me like that."

"Is that so," Keith dryly comments.

"Then why did you sleep with him?" Shiro asks. "To stop the beatings?"

Lance shakes his head. "He tried to hit me but stopped."

Now Shiro just looks confused.

"What the hell," Keith says. "I was sure I heard them beating you."

Lance inhales deeply and exhales just as slowly. "When I woke up, Acxa and Zethrid were there. They thought it was our people who took the pictures to sabotage Lotor's image," he starts to explain. "They hit me, because they thought I lied. Lotor was standing behind me the whole time." He pauses and tries to gather his thoughts. "He was angry. I think he feels violated too."

None of them comment on that, but there's a lack of sympathy on their faces.

"He didn't know I was a Paladin when we were together. He did hit me, but," Lance continues and watches Shiro's face become dark, "when I yelled at him, he stopped and released me from my chains. He said sorry."

"And you really believed in that?” Keith asks, bitter. “Did you forget about all of things he has done? He’s not a good person, Lance.”

"I know," Lance exclaims. "I know he isn't, but that doesn't change the fact that he didn't try to hurt me again."

“He took advantage of your vulnerability,” Keith snaps and turns to look at Lance, who defiantly looks back.

They look very dubious and even a little pitying.

How can Lance explain, without sounding like a fool, that Lotor had been vulnerable too?

The only thing Voltron had seen was Lotor's cunning ruthlessness, and how much he enjoyed playing his stupid games. How Lotor would throw anyone in the fire if they stood in his way. Sure, Voltron knew that the exception to this rule was Lotor’s Generals. Lotor had never left them behind even in the rare occurrences where it benefited him. He had never once seemed to treat them like they were beneath him. He worked with them like a team, and in return they gave him their unconditional loyalty. Even Voltron had noticed that much. But Allura had always been quick to point out that Lotor only did it because an united team simply worked better. Lotor didn't treat his Generals well because of respect, but because of efficiency and Lance had always believed her, been the first to dismiss the thought of Lotor being kind.

But Voltron hadn't seen Lotor when he wasn't on the field. They hadn't seen Lotor in his civilian clothes. The guy Lance knows didn’t barge into bars, pick fights and threaten people just because he could. He didn't need to let the room know that he was stronger and more powerful than them. Unlike Zarkon who always needed the people around him to be afraid of him, Lotor wasn't constantly on a power trip.

They don't know Lotor like Lance does.

But as a person who grew up with three sisters, he knows how that sounds.

So he leans back, and closes his eyes. “He’ll take care of the photographers,” Lance says. “It’s over.”

\-----

Allura looks close to a stroke when they get back, Hunk has been crying, and Pidge looks like they’re going to throw up. Only Coran looks moderately calm; probably used to this scenario. Watching his loved ones disappear into battle, go through the most dangerous situations and just hope that that they would come back.

Hunk engulfs Lance in a hug as soon as he steps out of the pod, and Lance’s rips ache but he can’t complain. The warmth around him makes a lump form in his throat, and in that moment -

No one or nothing could ever describe the amount of disgust and hatred Lance felt towards himself. He has never felt so dirty, so used and disgraceful, so much like a traitor. Never felt so selfish and cowardly.

He always struggled with insecurity and always compensated in faked confidence, and it helped. But insecurity was one thing. But standing there, in front of his team and the Lions?

Lance never felt so undeserving.

And maybe that’s what finally pushes him over the edge, and makes him cry.

“Be careful, his ribs are probably fractured,” Shiro says a little alarmed.

“What happened with Lotor?” Pidge asks.

“We’re cool,” Lance answers them, and their eyes fall down to his neck. He thought his collar covered both bites and the cut, but apparently not.

“I can see that,” Pidge slowly and warily says.

“Enough talk, come, my boy,” Coran interrupts. “You need a pod.”

“Meknitu first,” Lance says and it feels like a defeat to say it.

\-----

Lance lies on the patient bench, staring up at the high ceiling. After around an hour on the Meknitu, self-disgust left him, and not long after pain left too. Each feeling flies away like moths in the night, and only the cocoon of him is left. A shell of what he used to be.

He doesn’t know when working as a Paladin, started shaping who he was. He doesn’t know when the answer to the question of who he is became so elusive, because the part of him that was a Paladin affected just being himself. Being Lance.

“Are you alright, my boy?” Coran asks.

“Yeah,” Lance says, kind of distantly. “Just… winding down from everything.”

Coran is rubbing salve into Lance’s neck, even though Lance’s going directly into the healing pod after this.

“You liked him,” the older man says.

The Altean always had an ability to make the most complicated things sound so simple.

“Yeah,” Lance answers and to his horror his voice is all gravelly again. He sniffs as tears start to roll down his cheeks. “He wasn’t the perfect guy, but he had his moments.”

Coran doesn’t look judgmental. Only pitying.

“I thought I finally had a good thing going for me,” Lance continues. “Something fun and carefree. Someone, who actually wanted me back. And then…” he shakes his head and swallows, before exhaling slowly. He hears the heavy flaps of moth wings as self-hatred returns. Then self-pity. And of course, resentment.

Coran reaches out and grasps Lance’s hand, and Lance can’t help but roll and lean towards Coran. Curl into foster position like a fucking child, but Coran only hums soothingly at him, and strokes his hair as Lance cries.

“It’s over,” Lance says.

\----

The world moves on. Lance steps out of the healing pod, and he’s starting to resent the way it doesn’t leave anything behind. No scars, no medication schedule, no painkillers, nothing.

You’re wiped clean and spewed out to do the exact same shit that winded you up in a healing pod in the first place.

His team treats him like the plague. They care, they do, but they don’t know how to process the information they’ve been given so they give him space and space is what Lance needs. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

He trains and tries to get his head back in the game. Lotor and his crew seem to have gone underground, because they don’t hear anything about him for a while. Voltron goes on missions, and though it makes no difference in the way Lance almost seems to grieve, he is reminded of what he’s fighting for. At some point they drop by Balmera. Shay and Hunk visit the caves, and when Hunk comes back, Lance knows what has changed.

Eventually, goo starts tasting really bad and Hunk’s meals start tasting good. Lance starts to give a fuck about what the others are up to. Keith needs to be made fun of, and Pidge needs to be entertained.

Gradually, the frost of the night evaporates with a new dawn, and as the numbing layer of ice disappears, feeling and color pour back into the world.

When Lance starts being himself again, he expects a lecture or a Talk from somebody, but everyone seems to be too relieved about the awkwardness being gone to touch on the subject. Sure, sometimes Coran asks him, and once in a while Keith would grow all concerned, and it was _definitely_ weird in the communal showers, but… his team cares about him, and they support him so it never gets lonely.

\----

The galaxy they stumble into is eerily quiet. There are only about 43 planets and though Galra are all over the place, most of the populations are weirdly content and it’s not hard to figure out why.

It rarely happens that they stumble upon planets with a peace treaty with the Galra, and that’s mainly why they went there. They need a few days off, and the handful of populated planets is the easiest way to do it because of the Galra peace treaty. Of course, going civilian isn’t as easy as it used to be. Lance has gotten a fair amount of hate and curses thrown his way from the Galra that had seen the pictures, but he had taken it in stride and gotten used to the comments.

But it’s usually easier in galaxies like this where the Galra don’t have a lot of communication going on with headquarters. Regardless, Lance puts on a cape with a hood, and lets Allura draw on his face, and that’s usually enough for people not to recognize him.

The markets are wide and open. A lot of aliens migrated to this galaxy solely to set up peaceful business and settle down, so as they scout through the fruit market Lance sees more kinds of aliens than ever before. He winks at a few aliens who catch his eye, but otherwise only follows Shiro, who’s following Hunk.

In the evening, Lance wants to go out. He talked with a few locals and they recommended him a place. His team isn’t too keen on letting him go alone though.

“We don’t know who’s watching,” Shiro adamantly answers for the 45th time.

“I can protect myself,” Lance insists, also for the 45th time.

Nonetheless, when Lance goes out that night – steaming hot and ready to dance – he’s got his entourage with him, and as much as he pretends they’re a bother, he’s honestly a little relieved. He’s happy now, but considering what a night out brought him last time, he might end up needing the company.

The soft, but steady beats at the club are sick. It’s the closest to R&B and reggae Lance has heard in space, and he starts dancing the moment he gets in, joining a rather small crowd. Immediately Pidge starts to beg Shiro for a drink (something he vehemently refuses of course), so Lance turns to Keith, pulling his stiff body to the dance floor. It’s always hard to figure out how shit works on different planets, but one thing stays the same: if sound is a thing, which it always is on the planets they go on vacations for, music is too. There have been a few planets where the people didn’t react to music, but usually people like it and dance.

“Relax,” Lance says to Keith, trying to sound reassuring. He sways his own hips for demonstrations, a slow roll that follows the beat. Keith skeptically looks at his body and Lance grins encouragingly, before laughing and turning Keith around. He spreads the other boy’s legs a little, and makes him bend his hips and knees. He pushes his chest against Keith’s back, and ignores Keith’s sputter, putting his hand on Keith’s waist.

“Follow my body,” Lance tells him, and starts to roll his hips and shoulders to the rhythm. Lance called this _Platonic Grinding™_.

“Why do you hate me so much,” Keith mutters but tries to somewhat follow along.

“We’re just having fun,” Lance smiles. “All that fighting with the Gladiator got you all locked up.”

They dance until Keith genuinely starts to enjoy the music and doesn’t need Lance’s body to guide him anymore. But of course, as soon as Lance relents, Keith goes back to his statuary post glued to the wall. Hunk and Pidge are already dancing, and are having fun with it. Lance scans the wall for another partner, and when Allura gives him the meanest glare possible, Lance starts to walk towards Shiro.

“No,” Shiro starts, but it’s the nervous and jittery no, not the serious one. “Lance, don’t –“

“Come on, Shiro,” Lance calls, and pulls at Shiro’s hand, grinning. Shiro rolls his eyes but gives him an indulging nod.

Lance laughs and as soon as a new song starts, he steps close into Shiro’s space. Shiro looks a little clueless, but being clueless on the dance floor is apparently the price for being the best pilot(s) at the Garrison. Thankfully, Lance is here to teach, so when the quicker and freer beat becomes louder, he gestures Shiro closer and starts to dance.

It’s hard for Shiro to relax, and mostly he just sways, until Lance puts his hands on Shiro’s waist. Shiro doesn’t quite sputter like Keith, but he does blush and throw Allura a desperate look. Lance directs his body with every beat, and Shiro gets the hang of it surprisingly quickly. When Lance feels like Shiro is relaxed enough, he turns to look at Allura.

“No!” she shouts, her voice barely heard in the loud music and when did it get so crowded on the dance floor?

“You’re not going out with me without dancing!” Lance insists, and pushes her into Shiro. “Come on!”

Shiro and Allura start dancing albeit they make room for Jesus. Lance continues doing his thing solo, and it involves him being a gorgeous and sexy AF motherfucker. Then an alien is dancing in front of him.

They smile at him, and bare sharp teeth. Their skin is blue, and eyes big and amber with white slits. Keratin plates pattern their face symmetrically and their jaw is oddly snake-like, but there’s something pretty about the look. They’re one of the few aliens Lance has met with hair, and it’s curly and black, rolling down their narrow shoulders.

“Show me how to do what you did with him!” they shout out, and points at Keith who is already scowling suspiciously at them.

“Sure!” Lance calls out. The current song is more like pop, the vocals almost crisp, but that’s fine because the alien already knows how to dance, and Lance likes the way they do it. They swirl their hand in the air as they swing their round hips, and Lance carefully removes the hair on their back, and drapes it over one of their shoulders. He moves in, more careful with the stranger than his friends, and they dance.

The next song is closest to reggae that has been played, and Lance’s partner starts to kneel with him as he does, their hips swinging in synchronization. The alien smells like candy, and Lance is genuinely having a fun time.

At some point the alien moves in closer, and asks him if he wants to go home with them.

It’s the first time he has actually received an offer without trying and without wanting to. He throws his friends a look, and makes a face. “Sorry, can’t leave this place without my team,” he replies.

They smile. “VIP room it is.”

Lance’s brows jump, and he blushes. He quickly catches Keith’s eyes – which is not hard, seeing as Keith is watching them all like a hawk – and points at the alien and at the door.

Keith shakes his head.

Lance makes puppy eyes, and pouts his lip.

Then Keith holds up ten fingers, and Lance grins in success. The alien takes his hand after the exchange, and pulls him into a room where the light is yellow, and the couches are brown, the music nothing but a dull thud through the walls. The alien pulls off his vest and blouse, before unzipping the upper part of their body suit, revealing a blue, soft and flat chest. They don’t have any nipples, only the keratin plates growing out in swirly patterns. When they’re both naked and on one of the couches, Lances asks them where to touch. They direct his hand down their opened suit to a spongy flat area, and it doesn’t take long to rub them into completion. The alien jerks him off afterwards, just as clumsy and ignorant as him, and it’s all very rushed and a little awkward.

When he comes back to the dance floor, after briefly washing, he feels weirdly tired. They’ve only been there for a few hours, but now that he notices the others look ready to scram.

The walk home is cool and windy, which is refreshing to his sweating body.

“So, how did it go?” Hunk asks, careful to keep his voice down so Allura and Shiro in the front won’t hear.

“Fine, I guess,” Lance replies, and shrugs. Keith and Pidge give him worried glance. “It was just…”

_Not the same._

_“…_ Awkward,” Lance eventually ends the sentence.

Pidge squints at him. They’ve reached the age where they were getting curious about these sorts of things. “But isn’t it always?” they ask.

He shrugs again. “They didn’t buy me a drink,” he smirks.

“They way to your heart is through their wallet,” Keith dryly comments.

“Damn right,” Lance cheerily confirms.

\----

The following day Allura makes him do the Meknitu thing – casual sex sucked – because to his horror, he actually caught some sort of rash on the fingers. It’s not really a disease or anything; it’s just foreign bacteria his body has an allergic reaction to, but that allergic reaction sets off a chain reaction of sneezing, heavy and gagging and by the time the team leaves for a short hike and swimming trip in an area outside town, Lance has already accepted that he’s staying indoors.

“This is not like you, Lance,” Allura says, frowning. “You never used to do this thing, before …”

Lance resists the urge to roll his eyes. Allura doesn’t intend to join the hike, since she and Coran are going to spend the day seeking out information, but thankfully Lance had gotten permission to catch up with the rest when he had been thoroughly healed.

“Lotor?” Lance finishes the sentence, and Allura flinches. “Yeah, I don’t think it’s my thing anyway.”

Allura’s lips purse. “Then why? Why try to change?”

Lance blinks up at her. “I wasn’t exactly getting your phone number, was I? Need to make you see what you’re missing out on.”

She kicks at the floating table he’s lying on, and he squeaks in surprise.

\----

Fun fact!

The meadow is poisonous!

Which is great!

Good thing it’s been months since Lance swam in the open, because being handed a gasmask and a thick uniform just before he left is a shitty way to announce that the swim isn’t coming easy.

He trudges through the ironically beautiful meadow after having walked for over 20 minutes. He can’t smell anything through the gasmask, but the meadow is breathtaking to look at. The grass is tall and hot pink, and most of the flowers – which look and are shaped like star fruits – are white and iridescent in an almost velvet-looking way. The ground feels hard at first, but after a while it starts to feel like walking on marshmallows.

It shouldn’t unnerve him, but he’s been a Paladin for too long to not know when someone – or something – might be trying to kill him.

Thankfully, he has his wrist panel with him, which has a GPS, so he’s not exactly afraid to leave the path and walk along the forest line. As the sun leaves zenith, the flowers start to open – it mostly looks like gross starfish with their mouths turned up – and the meadow start to become misty with frost-colored pollen.

It’s when he’s nearing the end of the meadow and finding the path, that he sees the five figures. At first he thinks it’s fairy folk, dancing in circles in broad sunlight, but when he hears the strained yells, he figures it’s not. He climbs on top of a tree, and focuses his mask’s lenses.

Called it. Oversized starflowers are definitely trying to kill somebody.

Lance, being the usual hero of the day, pulls his Bayard out of his belt, and carefully takes aim. A particularly big starflower has its mouth around the biggest of the figures, trying to swallow them like a possessed dryer chair, two are shooting at some threatening flowers, while a third is being dragged towards a river Lance hadn’t noticed on the ground. The fifth is kneeling at a tube in the ground, quickly pouring something in it, hopefully something that will stall the flowers a little bit.

Lance fires of a quick series of shots, aiming at the stalk of the flowers. They’re made by hard stuff, so it takes several shots at each stalk for the flowers to retreat. Lance can’t get a good aim on the stalk that had pulled one of the people towards the water, so he folds his Bayard and tucks it away, before jumping down from the tree and running towards the figures.

They look up, and Lance freezes.

Because of course.

Of freaking fucking course.

In the _whole wide_ universe.

Before he can get a nervous breakdown, he waves at the water and the person at the tube, whom Lance does not want to look at for too long, gives him a quick nod. He jumps into the river, and whatever the rest of the group has poured into the ground, has made the water flowers wither.

He grabs the widely flailing figure, trying really hard not to think about his arms around _Narti’s waist_ and swims towards the surface. The fog of pollen has faded considerably, and Narti violently coughs up water. She’s heavy and he should just let her die for all of the shit she has given him, but Lance determinedly swims towards the shore. Zethrid had at some point gotten free from the starflower’s mouth, and she quickly pulls Narti away from Lance.

Instead of glowering, she grins widely and claps him on the shoulder. “Thanks for the help, stranger.”

Lance shakes in return, since she did sprain his knee, broke his wrist and bent his ribs. He pretends it comes from the coldness of the water, even hugs himself before shaking, and answers: “No problem. It looked like you were in a pinch.”

“You a traveller?” Zethrid asks, a little wary but not unkindly. “Haven’t seen your kind before.”

“Yeah,” Lance says and taps at his gasmask. “I have to wear this, since I can’t breathe in this atmosphere.”

Which is not a complete lie.

Now the rest of the team, after having done a short damage control, turns to look at Lance, but except Narti’s face which is well, blank as always, they look pretty unanimous. Lance quickly looks at the pink grass instead, not wanting to even look at the person in front of him. It doesn’t exactly hurt to do so, but it unlocks memories Lance thought he had gotten over already.

“I love your accent,” Harlequin happily compliments.

“Thank you?” Lance replies. “Look, I need to go – “

“Wait.”

Lance inhales very slowly and deeply, and looks at Lotor.

He looks skinnier than Lance recalls him, but that could be the change of uniform. The group isn’t wearing their standard Galra uniform, but instead a more lightweight uniform in white and yellow.

Lance tilts his head to show that he’s listening.

“Let us accompany you to your craft,” Lotor offers. “As you just saw, it’s rather dangerous here at this part of the year.”

“Uh, no thanks,” Lance sheepishly declines. “I can protect myself. But thanks for the offer, and have a good one, eh?”

He turns, knowing he can’t go to the springs where the others are. He has to go back to the markets, where he could lose any potential followers.

A hand lands on his shoulder, and Lance hates himself for thinking that the universe didn’t hate him, and he could’ve away so easily.

“I’m afraid I must insist,” Lotor says. “The plants aren’t the only thing in these forests to be aware of.”

Fuck.

“I must decline,” Lance says, now openly irritated. “I’m just heading back to the markets, and I brought a map.”

“You must not come here often,” Harlequin giggles, and points at Lotor. “He’s prince Lotor. You should be honored to retrieve his assistance.”

Lotor raises his chin.

“Who?” Lance asks, because he’s petty like that.

“Lotor,” Harlequin says a little irritated. “Zarkon’s son and the duke of this galaxy.”

“Never heard of ‘im,” Lance replies. He feels acutely aware of his neck as Lotor stares, like some Pavlovian dog. “Look, I appreciate the thought, but there’s stuff that I’ve gotta do, so…”

There’s a rustling in the forest behind Lance, and he groans, digging his hand into his belt for his Bayard.

“You know what I miss?” Lance rhetorically asks as he sees creatures he can’t even start to describe, but at closest look like huge, eye-less monitor lizards, come out from the bushes. “Having one fucking uninterrupted vacation.”

“Good thing you didn’t leave us, huh,” Harlequin cheerfully tells him, before abruptly turning invisible. Zethrid lets out a battle cry, and Lance can’t help but flinch at the sound. He’s not afraid of them, not on more than an instinctual level, but his body remembers her strength and brutality.

The rest of the team join in, but Lance doesn’t want to reveal his Bayard, so he just stands there and realizes to his annoyance that Lotor isn’t joining into the fray either, standing there with crossed arms and suspicious narrowed eyes.

“I thought you said you could protect yourself,” Lotor says, his eyes narrowing.

“And I thought you said you guys would protect me,” Lance argues, and turns his head to see a few lizards get through the Generals’ barricade and run towards them. His heart is beating quicker and it’s not because of the lizards nearing them. It’s because it’s starting all over again, and despite the danger he’s in, he can’t help but be intensively focused on the Prince.

Lazily the Prince looks back at Lance, before drawing his sword and fending off the nearing lizards

In another world Lance would feel quite like an asshole to take that opportunity to leave, but in this one he feels quite happy to. He can’t do this again. Not to himself, not to his team and some might not expect this, but not to Lotor either.

He starts to run away, but that seems to pique the lizards’ attention, and they wail. Lance wonders if they think he’s prey getting away, because more of them are coming out from the bushes, heading for him. He looks over his shoulder, and sees them jumping like bouncy balls at him, and before he can draw his Bayard, one lands on his back. It’s heavy with muscle, and it’s hard to roll it off him. Its claws dig into his cloak, and when he kicks it in the throat, the cloak is torn to shreds.

Lotor is making way towards him, but has two lizards on him as well, and Lance tries to draw his dagger, but the lizard is quick. It climbs up his body, tearing at his clothes and the edge of his oxygen mask.

He coughs hard as the pollen seeps into the mask, and goes into survival mood, drawing out his Bayard and watching it materialize in front of the lizard’s chest. He shoots, and it falls off him, it’s rib cage ripped open and bloody. He jumps onto his feet, the mask dangling on his face and obscuring his vision. He takes a deep breath, before ripping it off and taking aim, quickly shooting the ones climbing on top of Lotor.

More of the pollen seeps into his lungs, and he coughs into his sleeve, before turning and running away.


	7. The Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein people finally talk and say things out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys... I've just started school again, so I don't know how well I'll be able to keep up my writing schedule.
> 
> This chapter is mainly dialogue and a little shorter than the last. I tried to not end it in a cliff hanger (which I always do but every chapter HAS DRAMA).
> 
> Anyways enjoy!

Lance is coughing and running. He brings up his control panel and activates a distress signal, before he calls Shiro.

Pidge is doing a canon bomb in the background, t-shirt and shorts already drained. The waterproof binder Coran produced for Pidge must’ve worked well for them to bathe freely like that. Hunk shields his face from the splash of water, and Keith is pouting on top of a cliff, looking like the emo lone wolf as always.

Shiro is smiling all happily, and Lance remembers that he isn’t the only one who had needed a vacation. “Are you here yet?” Shiro asks, before his face falls, noticing Lance holding a piece of his cap against his nose, which is still bleeding. “What happened?”

“My mask was destroyed,” Lance informs. “I was attacked by lizards, and inhaled the pollen, anyways Lotor and his crew are nearby, probably looking for you. You need to get out of there.”

“Where are you?”

Lance coughs, and when he inhales, his throat wheezes. “I don’t know,” he says in belated panic. “I’ve turned on a distress signal, so you should be able to trace me. Besides, I left the meadow, so I don’t think it’ll get any worse than this. Just get out of there.”

_Please come get me I don’t want to be alone._

He’s such a baby.

“Alright, try to get as close to a spring as possible,” Shiro says. “Clean your clothes, and try to repair your mask. We’ll be there for retrieval as fast as we can.”

“Roger,” Lance confirms, but the joke falls flat.

Shiro only sighs in fond exasperation.

Lance draws up the map. The nearest spring is half a mile away from here, but it leads towards the team. He shouldn’t lead Lotor and his crew towards his team; he should probably find another spring in the opposite direction even if it’s further away.

But that simply isn’t realistic with how his lungs are acting, and he knows from soon to be two years of experience that it’s never a good idea to go solo. Stay with the team; like that they are always stronger.

So he trudges on.

\-----

Lance finds the nearest spring. It’s in a clearing, so after having washed his clothes and put it back on, he climbs the nearest tree, hoping to hide his figure among the pink leaves.

The day is nearing evening, and the air starts to cool. He thinks about checking in with Shiro, but the climb really took it out of him and he just wants to lie there and die, to be real. His head feels heavy, and the world is spotted with black. His lungs and throat burn like a sore throat, but at least his nose stopped bleeding.

He tries to sprawl comfortably in the tree and relax his body, tuning in on the sounds around him, remembering Lotor’s warning about the multiple threats in the forest, but so far it’s been pretty silent besides the birds and insects. He should probably be trying to repair his oxygen mask, but he feels sick every time he moves.

He dozes off, hoping to save his strength, but immediately startles when he hears one of the branches below him rustle. He freezes, and grabs his Bayard. Adrenalin washes out the pain of the aches as he as soundlessly as possible tries to rearrange his body so he can see and aim. He holds his breathe.

Yellow eyes meet his in the darkness, and Lance is about to press down the trigger, when he realizes that it’s Lotor.

He’s shed off his armor, and in the soft lighting of the sunset, the sharp starkness of his features is downplayed, and the yellow of his eyes have deepened into glazy honey. Lance has never seen the Prince like this. Soft.

Without hunger.

Almost abruptly, Lotor moves back into motion, his limbs determined as they pull up his body. Lance’s finger is shaking on the trigger, but he can’t bring himself to shoot.

Finally, Lance exhales and pulls back, wheezing for holding his breath for so long.

A moment later, Lotor settles on the branch Lance’s sitting on. They should be fighting right now. Lotor could hurt him, and he probably would. But a part of Lance disappeared when he broke it off with Lotor, and he needs it back. There’s no way he can defend Lotor, no way he can justify his feelings; he knows Lotor is as sharp and as cunning as his sword.

Lance misses bleeding.

He’s always been a fool. Always falling for the wrong people, setting his goals too high. Trying to befriend the wolf, and feel it bite down on his hand. Leaving his blood and skin behind in its mouth. He never learns.

Wordlessly Lotor takes Lance’s oxygen mask, and pulls a toolkit out from his jacket. Without saying anything, he starts to glue the parts together until the oxygen mask glows blue again.

As Lotor hands back the oxygen mask, he breaks the silence. “You saved our lives so I’m not gonna kill you.”

Lance snorts, which makes him cough. “Is that what you need to tell yourself?” he asks, his hand still pressed against his lips.

Slav probably knew about an alternate reality, where they aren’t who they are, and they could be together.

“I’m not pretending,” Lotor answers.

But it isn’t like that in this reality.

“Just don’t.” Lance’s voice is husky.

Lotor crawls forward, until they’re close enough to breathe the same air, and then close enough for Lotor to feel the heat of Lance’s body.

“How do you feel?” Lotor quietly asks him.

Lance smiles. “Like crap.”

“Your breath smells like blood.”

“And it wasn’t you this time.”

Lotor’s face loses expression. “Don’t think I would ever fail to forget that.”

Is that… remorse Lance sees in Lotor’s eyes?

“You’ve lost weight,” Lance notices.

The Galra doesn’t answer.

Lance sighs, and reaches up to touch Lotor’s ears.

Lotor eventually leans into his hand, blinking. “I’m sorry,” he hoarsely excuses. “I was so mad, but I didn’t have the right …”

Is that why…? Lance thinks back, and yes this is in fact the first time Lotor has seen and talked to Lance since they parted on Lotor’s ship.

“Hey,” Lance whispers trying to sound comforting. “I forgive you.”

Lotor only shakes his head.

It’s Lance who leans forward and kisses Lotor on the cheek. “Don’t be like that,” Lance mumbles. “You’re ugly when you’re sad, Handsome.”

Handsome turns up the corner of his mouth in a crooked smile.

The moment is broken by Lance’s cough. “You should go. My team will be here any moment now.”

Lotor nods, before meeting Lance’s eyes. “Meet me tonight,” he says.

Lance shakes his head. “I can’t. My team won’t let me go anywhere by myself anymore.”

“Try,” Lotor urges, and takes his hand. “There’s a big yellow building in the center of the city with a crystal roof, called Lumen. I’ll be waiting for you.”

\----

A body is lying on a field of white snow and grey sky, black leafless tree swaying in a biting wind.

When Lance reminisces about home, it’s always the blue beaches, his mother’s hugs and her garlic knots. Partying with Hunk, music of his motherland, the healthy amount of friends and peers he had. An Utopia where all Lance had to fear were other people.

He never reminisced Earth like this. Cold and lifeless.

There’s a body on the snow. They’re wearing jeans and a white shirt, the jacket open and torn on their body. Shadows float over the snow, and they see the body. And Lance, in that moment, is both a bird on a tree and the body itself.

He sees the wolf sniff at the warm body. It pokes the body with its nose and feels the soft meat. Its fangs tear into flesh. He feels the pain sear into his body, but can do nothing to stop it. His limbs barely move, as the wolf tears into his thighs, hungry and bottomless as a black hole.

Its claws tear into his shirt to bare his chest, and laps his pectoral with a warm wet tongue. He wants to scream. Wants to fight.

Wants it.

As soon as the thought comes to him, the wolf lunges forwards and snaps its jaws around Lance’s neck. He gasps, recoils, looking down.

Blue and yellow eyes meet his.

\-----

He has time to hear Shiro say "Look I know this is an opportunity, but Lance shouldn't – " before he free falls out of the pod. The pod is the worst that way; letting you go before you've even gained control of your body. 

Lance catches himself before falling on his face, and Allura and Shiro turn to look at him.

Hunk is quick to support him and Lance blinks blearily at his leaders. "Are mom and dad fighting?"

"We're not fighting, we're discussing," Shiro immediately corrects him and then catches himself when Lance grins triumphantly. "And I'm not a Dad," he quickly adds.

But they're all laughing already, and Shiro can only pout in return.

"Soooo..." Lance drawls and sits down on the cold metal floor. "Did any of you guys know this galaxy is Lotor's colony?"

"No," Allura replies, offended that he dared to even ask. "He's gone through great lengths to conceal his colony's location, and it appears we found it by accident." She crosses her arms and tilts her hip, staring him down. "So what happened exactly? In as simple a way as possible."

Lance opens his mouth.

"And by that I mean, don't empathize on your heroics," she adds, just to rub it in, and Lance makes a pouty face at her.

He starts to explain how the meadow had been dangerous, how it had attacked Lotor and his company, how Lance had aided them ("Move on," Pidge groans, which is so rude because Lance is only telling them _exactly_ what happened), how Lance tried to decline Lotor's offer and eventually how Lance had ended up in a tree. "He showed up and fixed my oxygen mask," he adds a little more unsurely. "Right before you guys arrived."

Allura is staring weirdly at him.

Shiro says: "Allura, _no_."

"What?" Lance asks, because in his humble opinion he didn't do anything wrong. Yeah, he kind of ripped his mask off to save Lotor, but did he sleep with him? No. Did he die? No. Sometimes all Lance needed was a ‘Hey, thanks for not banging our enemy or dying, good job’. Is that too much to ask?

"Well, we can't exactly keep ignoring the fact that Lotor has a soft spot for Lance," she quickly argues, and Lance snorts, because she actually has been the most insistent on the ‘fact’ that there does not exist one grain of goodness in any enabler of the Galra Empire.

Shiro is shooting her a betrayed look, before crossing his arms, and Lance concludes that this is probably what they had been ‘discussing’ about before he woke up.

"She wants you to spy on Lotor," Keith quickly debriefs him.

"Not _spy_ ," Allura is quick to deny.

"It's too dangerous," Shiro interjects.

"Why?" Allura asks. "Lotor could've killed Lance plenty of times at this point."

Shiro narrows his eyes at her, before seeming to remember Lance. "Look, Lance I'm not saying - "

"Clearly, you've seduced him," Allura interrupts. "We should use this to our advantage."

"Seduced him," Lance repeats in surprise. If his mother was here right now.

"Lance," Shiro says, sending Allura a withering look. "How do you feel about this?"

The answer is surprisingly easy to say. "No."

"What?" Allura breaks out.

Lance shakes his head, and stares at her. "I'm not taking advantage like that. I'm not a seducer or whatever, and exploiting my time with him would be pretty immoral of me. Don’t ask me that no more. I’m going to go shower."

\----

In the shower, he leans his forehead into the wall.

He doesn’t want to lose control.

\----

Nonetheless, Lance brushes his hair afterwards, so it can dry in a nice way. Moisturizes his body, so his skin is soft. Rubs his wrists and neck with cologne he received from a grateful family galaxies away from here. He puts on a tan t-shirt that compliments his skin tone and low-hanging olive pants, which enhances his slim waist and perky butt.

Lance doesn’t know when, but during these two years in space, he started to look less like the lanky teenage boy and more like a man. He’s built up a lot of muscle and grew a few more inches that made him as tall as Shiro. He’s really not a kid anymore.

\----

Lumen looks like a stadium. It’s huge, round and tall with a dome roof that bathes the city in golden light. Lance did notice the building the day before, but he didn’t really think about it much.

Now he notices that the people passing through look more prestige than the rest of the population. He walks up to the door and stands in line, not really knowing what to do now that he’s here.

When the guard sees him, they squint their eyes, giving Lance’s dirty cape a foul look.

Another guard steps forwards and whispers into the first guard’s ear. Lance is contemplating his life choices by the time the guards wave him through and direct him to a bot, that wakes to life when he stands in front of it.

“Follow me,” it says and starts walking. Lance looks around as he does so. This seemed like an important building, and there’s no harm in looking while he can.

He passes through drinking party venues, bars, cafés, lobbies, and even a hall full of pools, aquatic aliens lazily swimming around. Finally they reach a more secluded and private area, where they walk through a labyrinth of halls with closed doors. Eventually they stop at the end of the hall at a door that doesn’t seem much more special than the others.

“The Prince is waiting for you inside,” the bot informs. “Please, lock the door after you enter.”

With that it turns around and walks away with stiff, soundless footsteps. Lance inhales deeply, and is about to put his hand on the scanner, when he decides that might be a bit too trusting. He settles for knocking and lowers his hood when other aliens exit their rooms, shooting him a funny look.

Finally the door slides open, and Lance stumbles in. He briefly notices Lotor standing by the door, only wearing a robe, before being taken aback by the lounge.

The walls have a pleasant taupe color, but lacks art pieces. The furniture is clearly more for show than for practical reasons; it’s carved in neat patterns, and seems to be made out of a material that looks like ivory. The handles have beautiful amber-colored gems on them. There’s a huge, taupe couch shaped like a horseshoe around a turned off hologram projector, glowing subtly. At the end of the suite lounge he sees two more doors.

There is a curious lack of windows, and Lance briefly wonders if it has something to do with the photographing Galra, before he feels Lotor tugging off Lance’s cape, letting it fall to the ground, before folding his arms around Lance’s waist.

“Are you scared?” Lotor mutters into his neck, as he presses his lips against it.

“No,” Lance answers, leans back and lifts his hands to cup the Galra’s. “Not when you’re here.”

Lotor sighs. “It should be backwards.”

“Probably,” Lance says. “I think we should talk.”

Lotor sighs, and pulls away. He walks over to the couch, and slumps down. “Yes?”

“What are we going to do about this?” Lance asks, and starts to walk towards Lotor, settling down a safe distance away from him.

“Concerning what?” Lotor asks, seemingly not bothered about the distance.

“Our teams, and us technically being enemies?” Lance explains. “Does that ring any bells?”

Lotor sighs and rubs his face with his hand. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” Lance says, and quickly adds: “You’re the strategist.”

Lotor just shrugs, and looks at the purple hologram projector. A look of exhausted hopelessness flickers over his face for less than a second, before his face settles into blankness. “What’s your name?”

Lance startles with the subject change, not understanding the question. “What do you mean, what’s my name?” he asks.

“I don’t know your name, but you know mine,” Lotor tells him. “When we were in the forest, you ran away and I wanted to call out for you.”

“Oh,” Lance says, quickly thinking back to all of their time together, and realizing that he hadn’t ever asked for Lotor’s name, and Lotor had never asked for his either. And considering how little the Galra actually knew about the Paladins, how could Lotor know? Lance ponders for a moment, considering the consequences of answering truthfully, before deciding to screw it. He’s here and Lotor hasn’t hurt him, and it isn’t like Lance is going to tell Lotor the others’ names. “Lance. Lance McClain García y González López.”

Lotor blinks at him, looking suspicious, as if he’s suspecting that Lance might be fucking with him.

Lance grins. “Just Lance is fine, though the full version of Lance is Lancelot.” A realization strikes him. “Oh my God, that’s like half of your name glued onto mine.”

Lotor must decide that Lance isn’t fucking with him, because he asks: “And what does Lancelot mean?”

Lance smiles at him. “’Servant’ I think? But there’s this old myth about a dude called Arthur. He had a round table with lots of knights, and they were known for being righteous and merciful, and the round table symbolized all of the knights being equal. One of the knights was called Lancelot of the Lake. It was said Lady of the Lake fostered Lancelot, and that’s why he was the strongest of the knights. She gave Arthur this rad sword, and Lancelot himself to aid Arthur in his quest. But Lancelot kinda ended up banging Arthur’s wife and stuff.”

Again, Lotor merely stares at him.

“It’s a myth, not history,” Lance is quick to make clear. “The myth is English and my grandma is English, hence the McClain. She thought it would be funny.”

Lotor leans back, looking as if pondering the information for a while. “The Champion was a strong fighter, and quite righteous once he escaped our capture,” he says and Lance almost flinches at the nickname, but he doesn’t exactly want to correct Lotor with Shiro’s real name. “Is all of your species like him?”

“White,” Lance settles on saying.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t call him that. His name means White. Just refer to him like that from now on, okay?”

Lotor smiles. “White. Quite ironic, considering the Lion he pilots.”

Shiro isn’t a Paladin anymore, but Lotor doesn’t need to know that. “For your information, White would probably be King Arthur in this case. He’s an awesome and strong leader, but still kind to others.”

“Are you sleeping with his lover, then?”

Lotor looks completely serious.

Lance stares at him.

Lotor cracks a smile, and Lance throws a pillow at him.

“When you said Lance the first time, it was translated as ‘long, sharp weapon’,” Lotor tells him.

“I believe the translator was referring to what’s between my legs,” Lance solemnly explains, but can’t keep a straight face for the life of him, and Lotor throws the pillow back at him. “Anyways, stop trying to distract me. I asked you a question.”

A sullen look is thrown his way.

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Lotor slowly says, “you’re right about me. If I decide to have an affair, there’s not much people can do about it. My Generals know where I am tonight, and they don’t approve. And considering our opposing sides of the war,” Lotor says. “I wouldn’t exactly call them opposites. I’m not interested in maintaining the Empire.”

“You took back Puig,” Lance argues.

“To gain Haggar’s trust,” Lotor says. “I don’t need her working against me while I’m in command. And I did not kill the Puigians for their disobedience, did I?”

Lance looks at him for a long time. “So what do you need?” When Lotor doesn’t answer, Lance continues: “To feel more powerful than your father?”

“Not anymore,” Lotor answers, but he makes it sound like it’s a bad thing. His head falls back as he stares at the ceiling.

Lance crawls forwards until he’s sitting besides Lotor. “You know, you could have me,” he says, and cups Lotor’s cheek. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

Lotor turns to look at him. “And how long will it last before Voltron comes back to this galaxy, and frees the natives?”

For the first time since Lance has met Lotor, he feels the urge to punch the guy. “And what would be wrong with that?”

“You don’t think they’ll call for my execution?” Lotor asks. “My Generals’?”

That makes some of the anger fade away, but still. Lance is Cuban, he is a descendant of slaves and it hits a nerve with him. “Lotor, listen. As someone who has freed plenty of planets, they’re not going to call for your execution unless you really fucked them up, and you haven’t. You’ve treated them well.”

“They will forget that once they’re feeling the rush of freedom,” Lotor bitterly mutters.

“They wouldn’t call for your execution if you stepped off the throne yourself. Have you considered that?” Lance asks.

“My father would only send new armies, crueler ones.”

That makes Lance stumble. “Your father is dead.”

Lotor snorts. “He’s healing and becoming stronger for each day that passes. Once he’s strong enough, he’ll retake the title as Emperor and check up on his colonies. And he will see that my reign – and the others colonists’ reign in Lumen – have been far too mild.”

Lance feels all of the blood run out of his face. “Zarkon… is alive?”

Lotor finally looks at him, a questioning and slightly surprised look on his face. “You didn’t know? I thought your people – ”

“It’s limited what they can do,” Lance interrupts. He stands up. “I have to go – “

“Wait,” Lotor says and grabs his wrist. “Why go so soon?” His long fingers pet Lance’s wrist. “Stay. Just for a few hours.”

“I can’t,” Lance says, but doesn’t tug his wrist loose. “My team must know.”

Lotor must be able to mind control, because Lance sits down after a second of silence.

“Is that all I am to you?” Lotor asks, his voice low but cold. “Information?”

“No!” Lance quickly denies, putting his hand Lotor’s tense arm. “You know that’s not true.”

Lotor is silent for a while. “What is true?” he eventually asks.

God, Lance is far too immature to reassure Lotor about his feelings, but he tries. “I adore you,” he says. “You know that.”

Lotor blinks slowly at Lance, his white lashes long and fan-looking. He looks considering for a moment, before he puts his hand on Lance’s shoulder and draws him into a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMRADES! Thank you so much for all the feedback. You're all amazing and too nice. I just wanted to make it clear that constructive criticism is very welcome.


	8. Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein confessions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the song "This chapter has had 10 different outcomes from 10 different realities" and is co-written by Slav. *clears throat into microphone* *screams* 
> 
> also, this chapter contains fear during consensual intercourse and sex-shaming.

“You’re full of tricks,” Lotor whispers as he pushes Lance down on his back. There’s nothing forceful in the push, nothing sexual or wanting. He just wants to be closer. Lance puts his hands on the Galra’s shoulders, sliding them down his back.  

“Tricks?” Lance asks, blinking slowly in the dimly lit room. His heart isn’t beating quickly. The heat isn’t splitting every cell in his body apart. Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be when you like somebody and they actually like you back. To not be nervous, shy or scared, but to be completely calm.

“Yeah,” Lotor says. “Whenever you’re around, I…” He huffs into Lance’s skin, and goose bumps break out on his skin at the cold breath. “It sounds ridiculous.”

“Tell me,” Lance urges, stroking Lotor’s hair out of his face.

Lotor sighs. “Everything becomes more vibrant, I guess,” he finally answers.

Woah, this is a new definition of butterflies in the stomach.

Lotor rubs his face into Lance’s neck, clearly embarrassed

Lance turns his head, and whispers: “Well, it’s making me feel like yours.”

That makes Lotor lift his head and meet Lance’s eyes. “Mine,” he softly says, before bowing down to kiss Lance on the lips. “Mine,” he repeats, hugging Lance tightly.

Lance gasps as Lotor’s kisses become harsher. He already feels drunk on love. How could he ever have thought he could’ve gotten Lotor out of his veins?

Lotor nudges his legs open, and Lance pulls off the robe by the shoulders. Lotor smells like spicy autumn; rosy wood, minty resin and the sweet scent of decaying foliage. Lance closes his eyes, and startles slightly when Lotor nips at his lower lip.

The Galra sits up on his knees, and slips off the rope. Lance stares up at him. In return Lotor lifts an eyebrow at him. Without thinking too much about it, Lance grabs the hem of his shirt and shucks it off. He unbuttons his chinos and lifts his hips to get them off too. Lotor pulls them off the rest of the way, throwing them to the side before lowering down like a hollow wave, engulfing Lance.

Lance curls his legs around Lotor’s thighs, and groans when Lotor rolls his hips. His hands on Lotor’s waist rub in circles, appreciating the strong muscle before eventually sliding down to his ass cheeks, giving them a playful squeeze. Lotor sighs into his ear, and rolls his hips.

Lance writhes, and squeezes Lotor’s ass again before sliding a curious finger down his ass crack.

Lotor sits up, looking disgruntled. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks.

“Hm?” Lance asks, playing dumb.

Lotor very deliberately removes Lance’s hand away from his ass. Lance grins, and Lotor rolls his eyes.

The Prince slides his mouth down Lance’s body, leaving a track of damp warmth on Lance’s chest and stomach. The Galra hooks his fingers into the band of Lance’s boxers, looking up at Lance for confirmation, and Lance hurries to nod. Lotor pulls them off, and for a moment he just presses his nose against the hairy skin. Lance’s mouth falls open, jerking his hips at the feeling Lotor’s lips pressed against the root of Lance’s cock.

Lotor bites at the skin, before moving down to Lance’s hard cock. He gives it a long lick from root to head, making Lance’s toes curl. His hands come to spread Lance’s legs further apart, his thumb gliding in circles on the soft skin of Lance’s thighs. Lance moans. Lotor suckles on Lance’s cockhead making Lance squirm, and fist a hand into Lotor’s hair. “Yeah, like that,” he encourages keenly. Lotor swallows down Lance’s cock, his hand sliding in between Lance’s cheeks, rubbing his perineum. Lance jerks his hips, crying out when he feels the head of his cock hit the back of Lotor’s mouth.

“Baby, you’re so good to me,” Lance whispers. The praise makes Lotor suck even harder, fondling Lance’s balls.

Then he unfortunately lets go. Lance keens and Lotor playfully bites Lance’s inner thigh, quickly pressing a kiss onto the bite, before standing up and walking over to a shelf, in which he pulls out a tube. He smiles at Lance as he walks back, and Lance smiles back. Lotor drapes himself over Lance’s body, pressing quick kisses against Lance’s neck and cheeks. The contact of their skin feels cold and a little bit clammy. Eventually Lotor goes to kneel between Lance’s legs again, and Lance sits up to see.

Lotor meets his eyes as he puts Lance’s cock in his mouth. His eyes are intense, yellow and blue glowing like a predator’s. Lance is hit by déjà vu, but he’s not quite sure why. His heart is beating quickly.

Lotor presses in a finger and it has been a while, but the anticipation, the feeling of being full, even the sting, excite Lance, and leave him wanting more. He strokes Lotor’s hair as the Galra pushes more and more of Lance into his throat, while stretching Lance out. Lance’s cock feels burning and throbbing, and the three fingers moving inside him only intensify the pleasure.

“Lotor,” Lance gasps. “I’m going to come if you keep sucking me like that.”

Lotor releases Lance’s cock with a pop, and smiles at Lance. “And if I want you to?” he asks.

“I want to come when you’re inside me,” he requests, making it breathy and desperate, because Lotor likes that shit.

Lotor groans against Lance’s thigh, and Lance grins cockily. He reaches down and prods around, feeling where Lotor’s fingers are embedded. “Have I told you about the prostate?” he asks, pushing in his own finger, biting his lip at the following tightness.

Lotor frowns. “No?”

“It’s a spot within my sex’s ass that’s highly sensitive and erogenous,” Lance explains. “And I found it not too long ago. Follow my finger.”

He pushes his finger further inside, before curling it. Lotor’s fingers follow his movement, and Lance’s cries out. Despite his flexibility, it had always been limited how much he could stimulate himself with his own hand, so having Lotor do it is definitely something else.

“You found it you say,” Lotor mutters, and there’s something dark in his voice. “You’ve been fingering yourself?”

“Yeah,” Lance confirms.

Lotor bites his thigh, and Lance shakes as he feels the sharp teeth pierce the skin. “You sure you haven’t let somebody else help you?” he asks, an acid edge in his voice, and Lance looks down at him, meeting blue and yellow eyes.

Like that, the sun merges with the horizon and the strong sunlight turns into dying fiery rays. The waters fill with heavy and long shadows. There’s a fresh red bite mark on his inner thigh, a drop of blood trickling down from it. A black flower blooms from the indentations left in Lance’s skin.

“No,” Lance moans. “Not there. Only you.”

Lotor grabs Lance knees in a quick motion, and Lance flinches in surprise. The room feels darker. They’re bleeding together.

“So there has been somebody else?” he asks.

“Only one time,” Lance gasps. “Two nights ago.”

In a second, Lotor lowers over Lance’s body. Still like a hollow wave, but this time Lance doesn’t have time to get out. This time it drops down on him, and he falls into the water.

Lance swallows as he feels Lotor position his cock against Lance’s hole, before ramming in without warning. Lance yells, the friction enlightening fires inside of him. He throws his head back, his legs shaking in Lotor’s hands. Lotor grabs him by the cheek with one hand, the edge of Lance’s teeth scratching a hole into his inner cheek.

Lance shakily breathes: “Please, there’s only you.”

“How many others?” Lotor asks, slowing pulling back and slamming back inside. “I, the one from two nights ago and who more?”

“No more,” Lance whimpers.

“Stop lying,” Lotor snaps, and puts his hand on Lance’s neck.

“I’m not lying,” Lance exclaims and removes his face from Lotor’s hand. “You were my first.”

At that Lotor stills. Hazily Lance blinks up at him, and after a moment Lotor starts smiling.

“Ride me,” he says and turns them around.

“You’re such an ass,” Lance complains, and Lotor reaches up to dry tears away from Lance’s eyes, who hasn’t even noticed them watering in the first place.

Lance grabs the crest rail of the couch and grinds down. Lotor closes his eyes and moans and Lance inhales deeply before pulling up again, and falling down. Sweat starts to dew his body as Lance continues a harsh and relentless pace, his dick bouncing between his legs.

Every time Lance falls down, the bite on his thigh is chafed, and the pain drives him on until he’s on the peak of orgasm.

“Say my name,” Lotor groans, staring up at Lance’s face.

“Lotor,” Lance moans, and puts his hand on Lotor’s chest to support himself, as his spine turns to mush. “Lotor, fuck, I’m going to come.”

Lotor reaches down, and grabs Lance’s dick, which makes him moan even louder. “Ask me.”

“Make me come,” Lance demands.

“Say my name.”

Lance exhales harshly. “Make me come, Lotor.”

Lotor drives up his hips as Lance falls down and Lance shouts. Lotor starts to stroke his dick, and it makes Lance slow his rhythm and Lotor smoothly takes over.

“Again,” Lotor gasps.

“Make me cum, Lotor,” Lance repeats. “Please, I need it, I need you – I need your cum, please, Lotor – “

Lotor’s hand whips up and grasps Lance around the neck. He presses down, which makes Lance wheeze and starts to piston his hips as he fucks up into Lance.

“Again,” Lotor begs.

“Please, fuck me, Lotor, fuck me harder, Lotor, Lotor, _Lotor_ – “

Lotor cries out, squeezing Lance’s cock as he comes. The hot pulse of Lotor’s cum inside him pushes Lance over the edge, making his knees lose strength. He falls down on Lotor’s dick and leans backwards, making it graze his prostate. His ass tightens around Lotor as he comes harder than he has for a long time.

When he comes to himself, he has slumped down on top of Lotor’s chest, and Lotor is grinding his still-hard dick into Lance, making cum gush out.

“Lotor,” Lance groans, his ass oversensitive and his voice sore. “It hurts.”

Lotor stops grinding and sits up. When Lance makes no move, he sighs and pulls Lance off his dick, which only makes Lance whine.

Lotor smiles at Lance’s agony, because of course, and settles Lance on his back on the couch.

Lance can feel his hole gaping and the seed roll out. God, Lotor came a lot and _Lance forgot the fucking condoms_ he had actually _brought_ for once.

Lotor strokes Lance’s waist, hips and thighs. When Lotor puts the heel of his hand onto Lance’s dick and rubs, Lance whines. Lotor’s smile grows wider as Lance sends him a pouty face. He starts to stroke his cock, pressing it against Lance’s hole.

“Just one finger,” Lotor requests, when Lance swats at him.

“No,” Lance denies. “You can come on my chest or something, you’re not touching me down there.”

Lotor looks considerably at Lance’s perked brown nipples, before eventually raising his eyes to Lance’s face. “Can I come in your mouth?”

Lance sighs. “You just had your dick in my ass, so no,” he answers. “I would get sick.”

“What if my dick doesn’t touch you?” Lotor bargains and Lance licks his lips, looking down at Lotor’s dick.

“Okay,” he answers and Lotor climbs his body, putting each knee on either side of Lance’s face. It isn’t long before Lotor starts to grunt, his fist quickening around his cock. Lance opens his mouth and like a fucking asshole, Lotor presses his dick _onto Lance’s nose_. At Lance’s face expression, Lotor giggles and pulls it away.

Lance briefly inhales the unique scent of Lotor’s precum, before cum starts to spurt onto Lance’s tongue and lips. Despite Lance’s exhaustion, he feels the urge to suck the rest of it out with his lips, before he remembers how gross that would be.

Finally Lotor seems to be done coming, and he supports himself to the crest rail while gasping. Lance licks whatever is on his lips off and swallows, and it kind of tastes like raw aloe vera. Lotor’s balls are tight above him, and he reaches up to fondle them despite Lotor’s grunt, before he rubs at Lotor’s perineum and –

Another spurt of come hits Lance in the eye.

“Ow!” he exclaims, quickly closing his eye.

Lotor dazedly looks down at him, before chuckling. “That should teach you.”

Lance huffs and slaps him on his inner thigh, and Lotor reluctantly moves from the top of Lance’s chest.

“Door to the right,” Lotor instructs as Lance stumbles away from the couch.

Lance hisses at him, feeling cum push out of his ass now that he’s up and moving, and he ignores Lotor’s pleased purr in the background.

He finds the bathroom, and rinses his eye and face, before washing out his mouth. He pees, and of course cleans out his asshole, before exiting the bathroom. He finds that the second door is open, and Lance walks in to find that it’s a bedroom, and Lotor’s resting on the sheets on his stomach.

Lance goes to join him, and curls an arm around Lotor’s cooling back. Lotor turns his head and looks at him, smiling crookedly.

“Was I really your first?” Lotor asks.

“Yeah,” Lance confirms, and a little irritated now that he remembers, he asks: “What the Hell was that for, Lotor?”

Lotor looks at him in puzzlement.

“I don’t mind rough sex, but don’t become angry with me like that again,” Lance makes it clear. “It’s not fun or sexy at all.”

Lotor sits up, drawing away from Lance. “How was I not supposed to be angry?”

Lance sits up too. “Because we weren’t even together at that point?”

“Of course I do!” Lotor thunders. “You went to bed with another like a whore!”

“We had broken up at that point!” Lance shouts, anger making blood rush into his head. “And I’m not a whore! You’re the one who picks up strangers up from bars!”

“Like yourself?” Lotor hisses. “Would a virgin really do that?”

“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” Lance exclaims, and jumps up, leaving the room. He grabs his clothes, putting them on wrong in his haste, when Lotor comes.

“You’re mine!” Lotor argues. “But you slept with another. How can you not understand that that angers me?”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to believe that you were celibate in that period of time?” Lance asks.

“It’s not the same,” Lotor argues.

“You’re unfuckingbelievable,” Lance curses and grabs his cape. “I’m not a fucking whore in your harem, you don’t own me, and you don’t get to tell me what to do!”

Lotor throws up his hands like Lance is just too much to deal with, and Lance would’ve slammed the door if it hadn’t been automatic.

On the way out of Lumen, he picks up several bottles of alcohol at the bars and puts it on Lotor’s tap, before leaving the building.

Lance puts the bottles in a bag for the others, before opening one for himself. As he sniffs it, he immediately recognizes the smell of ethanol. He takes one sip.

It burns just right, and Lance drinks a gulp or two, before going home, energized with anger and booze.

When he gets to the Castle, the sun is up, which means the team is up. He kind of wants to be yelled at immediately so he doesn’t have to be yelled awake later, so he goes directly to the training room, where predictably the team is already sparring. He sways at the doors, and for a second he feels ashamed. That’s where he should’ve been the past hour: With his team, healthy and sober and motivated.

But he’s here, and he’s anything but that.

Shiro sees him first, and halts his sparring with the Princess, to walk up to him, making a gesture at Allura to stay.

Allura, having not taken the hint that Shiro wants to talk to Lance privately, follows him, basically frothing at the mouth at Lance’s drunken appearance.

“Lance,” Shiro starts, “what were you thinking – “

Lance burps, which makes Shiro stop and wrinkle his nose. “Zarkon is alive,” Lance reports. “Lotor and a bunch of other colonists are here to talk about it. Holding a meeting. Apparently they’re trying to be the good guys, and they manage their planets like, in symbiosis with the natives or something?”

“Is that so?” Allura dryly asks, but she doesn’t look so happy about the information as he thought she would be.

Lance sways a bit, and Shiro reaches out to take the bottle from him. Lance smiles gratefully at him, and looks at Keith, Hunk and Pidge who has stopped sparring, and are coming towards them.

“Is there anything else?” Allura asks.

Lance shrugs. “Lotor thinks that once Zarkon are up on his feet, he’ll check his colonies,” he says. “Apparently, Zarkon doesn’t like the whole kind ruler thing, but Lotor and the other colonists here, have been hiding the living conditions. They fear that once Zarkon finds out, he’ll change things for the worse, and I’m pretty sure the colonists are afraid of the punishment that follows, even though Lotor weirdly enough didn’t mention that part.”

“Huh,” Allura thoughtfully grunts.

“Princess.” Shiro almost groans it. “Please, he’s drunk?”

“I’m not drunk,” Lance exclaims in indignation. “Hey, Hunk, can I ask you something really quick?”

“Sure, pal,” Hunk smiles. He’s used to Lance’s ways. “Can I bring you a glass of water afterwards?”

“Thank you, bro.” Lance smiles back. “Why didn’t you just reject me?”

And like the switch of a button, Hunk’s grin disappears.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Lance giggles and tries to make his voice cheery. “Come on, it was like the first year of Garrison, so what, four years ago now that I confessed to you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Hunk says, scratching the back of his neck.

Lance stares at him, and the cheery feeling subsides to something empty and distant. “I mean, you said you would think about it, right?” Lance asks. “I waited for you to make up your mind for like 4 years, right?” His voice breaks. He clears his throat. “I mean, I get that you couldn’t return my feelings, I understand that completely, but couldn’t you have just rejected me? Instead of making me wait for you like that?”

“I guess,” Hunk replies, his face going pale.

“But you had to let me find out by me walking in on you and Shay making out,” Lance continues, his words stumbling and quick, his voice hoarse. “And you said you had liked her since you met her, so I just don’t understand why you couldn’t...”

Hunk sighs. “Can we do this when you’re sober and in private maybe?”

Lance’s voice comes off hysterical. “No, man, I think I have waited for long enough and I don’t think Allura and Shiro will let me have this liquor courage again.”

There’s a lump in Lance’s throat. He swallows dryly.

“I was just really insecure at the time, okay?” Hunk eventually answers. “I thought that if I rejected you outright, you might not want to be in a team with me, which was completely understandable. But I mean, who would want a mechanic with motion sickness? And you know, I might’ve returned your feelings at some point, yeah? And when I met Shay, I mean, I figured that I would … make my feelings clear at some point. I didn’t want you to walk in on us, that wasn’t how I planned it at all. You just flirted with everyone, I wasn’t sure if you were waiting for me any more.”

Bullshit. Hunk knows that Lance didn’t ever actually meet up with anybody, was never genuine in his flirting, and never took up the few offers he got.

“What kind of best friend does that?” Lance asks and sniffs. His eyes got wet with tears at some point, and he quickly dries them away. He’s so tired of feeling sad, of being afraid. He hates always feeling like a damn victim, something Lance swore he’d never be.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

He’s not really up for training or sobering up really, so he waves at them before leaving.

\----

He cries in the shower.

The bite mark stings on his thigh.

Sleep comes easily.

\----

Keith wakes him at noon. Lance feels heavy and warm with the hangover, but feels no real headache. He does his face routine in the bathroom as Keith impatiently taps his foot, already in armor of course, and Lance has barely put on his own, when Keith drags him out of the room and towards the lounge.

He doesn’t really remember a lot, only that Lotor called Lance a whore, that Lance stole some booze from his bars and that he somehow wasn’t scolded when he got home?

Or well. Allura would surely be waiting for him.

Keith shoots him some weird looks on the way, and Lance asks him what’s up, but Keith just looks uncomfortable. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

Lance shrugs. “I think I’m still a little drunk?”

Keith throws him a wary look, before nodding. “Hey,” he says and puts an arm around Lance’s shoulder. “I’m here for you, you know that right?”

Keith is pretty stiff, and it feels kind of awkward, as if Keith is trying too hard, but Lance appreciates the effort, so he squeezes Keith around the waist. Lance might be too proud to admit that he might’ve misjudged Keith when he first met him, but he’s not afraid to say that Keith has come a long way and has been quite the supportive friend for some time now.

Lance smiles at the red Paladin. “Yeah, of course?” Lance says. “What brought this on? Did I do something really embarrassing yesterday?”

“Kind of,” Keith admits and they stop in front of the lounge’s door. “I’ll explain later. We’re in a hurry now.”

The doors slide open, and the team is already in there. But there’s a guest Lance hasn’t seen for a long time: Kolivan.

Except, Kolivan has a scar down the side of his head, which has crooked his small ear and made the skin hairless.

“Woah,” Lance says. “What happened to you?”

He knows that Kolivan went undercover after the photographs, and despite Allura’s efforts, she hasn’t been able to get into contact with him or any of the Marmorans. They had all been kind of worried, to be honest.

Kolivan throws him a grim look. “Lotor and his Generals. They figured that our organization is small of size, and that we are spread out thinly. They tried to wipe us out.” Kolivan crosses his arms. “Of course, they didn’t succeed. But they were close.”

Lance sits down besides Hunk, who is staring at his hands for some odd reason.

Lance, being a good friend, jabs Hunk with an elbow. “You alright, bud?”

Hunk stares up at him, blinking quickly. Had his eyes been wet? “S-sure,” Hunk says. “What… about you?”

“Good,” Lance asks, not knowing what’s up with the weird mood Hunk is in. He would have to ask Hunk later.

“The Princess has debriefed me about you continuing your affair,” Kolivan continues and Lance stiffens, but Kolivan doesn’t seem angry about it. “We should use this to our advantage. Already, you’ve told the Princess about a meeting between colonists?”

“It could be a trap,” Keith immediately pipes up.

“Yes, Lotor could be feeding us false information,” Shiro affirms. “It’s unlikely he believes Lance to not use the information he’s gaining to his advantage.”

“I don’t believe so,” Kolivan says, and Lance looks up at him in surprise, and when the team looks at him in surprise, he continues: “During my period of work, it’s become quite apparent that the Prince has no interest in being a ruler of the Galra Empire. Ever since he conquered this galaxy, he has left it to rule on its own. Besides resources, he doesn’t use these planets, but he hides their location and keeps the stream of other Galra low.”

Lance isn’t really surprised, but – “That’s not because he’s a good guy,” Lance protests in agitation. “That’s because he’s a possessive fuck.”

“ _Lance_ ,” Shiro’s voice whips and Lance flinches.

Kolivan’s ears briefly flicker. “For someone who shares bed with him, you don’t seem too eager about him.”

Lance throws himself back in the couch, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m starting to feel glad I don’t,” Pidge mutters.

Kolivan sighs. “I will be spreading out a few of my people tonight, but tomorrow morning we should leave the planet.”

\----

Buuuuuut, Lance didn’t get to go to a spring, sooooo –

\----

The water is awesome and everything he needs. He really loves his team and socializing in general, but going away to be on his own is nice sometimes too.

Maybe having an affair is having a bad influence on him. He certainly would never have sneaked out this much before. He would at least have asked first, and if he hadn’t gained permission, he would’ve hesitated. He’s not nervous about his actions though, and feels like an asshole once he realizes his apathy. His team has really done a lot to be there for him, and here he is, sneaking out. What if the team is attacked and they need him? What if Voltron is needed, and he was all the way out here?

Well, he has always been like this, even before Lotor. There was that whole Nyma episode, and even then he’d known what he had been doing wasn’t responsible. He has always been easy to tempt, he guesses, but he’s pretty sure he had gotten better at resisting. Especially when Shiro had been gone, and it had turned out that Shiro, as a matter of fact, had been the physical manifestation of the red Paladin’s impulse control. They all tried to ground Keith, but for some reason Lance’s voice had always had the biggest impact. Probably because he was really persistent about it.

And yet here he is, floating in a spring and staring at the stars, while his team could be getting murdered right this second. Half-heartedly, he hopes that no one will yell at him when he comes back, though he doesn’t expect so.

It’s evident his team doesn’t really know what to do with Lance lately. They certainly do not support his affair, but they’re willing to look past it, and he wonders if it’s because they genuinely don’t think it’s too much of a problem – which is unlikely – or they simply just don’t know how to deal with it. What could they even say that’d make a difference?

He already knows. He knows he should stop. He knows Lotor can and has hurt him, and others for that matter. And yet he keeps going back for more, and none of the team member knows how to deal with that situation, or maybe they just don’t know where to start. Maybe they’re just too tired. He can’t expect them to try and clean up his messes. They are messes themselves, and unless Lotor turns to genocide or something, Lance bets the team isn’t willing to try, even though Lance would like to think that a mass-murdering lover would do the trick.

Maybe it would’ve been easier if Lotor had been more like his father. Cynical, uncaring, ambitious, power hungry. Maybe if Lotor’s colony had been full of slaves and sadistic Galra, it wouldn’t have been up to debate whether Lance would stay with him.

But Lance saw a Galra and an alien, which could look a lot like the former Green Paladin, walk together today, both holding the hand of what must’ve been their kid. Their kid had the fluffy Galra ears and yellow eyes, but a beige fur and cat-like snout. They had been swinging in-between their parents.

Lance is shaken out of his thoughts when he feels the ground shake, and the faint sound of an explosion. He treads water and the ground shakes again. There’s the sound of alarms coming from the city, and the sky is filled with ash and smoke. Golden light bathes the tree crowns. He throws on his armor and runs to the highest tree, quickly climbing it to the top to see what’s going on.

Lumen is on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i need new tumblrs to follow. If you feel like it, go ahead and drop ur URL in a comment (....... unless your blog contains any sort of shipping with Pidge. Sorry, it just makes me uncomfortable). 
> 
> Also, I swear I love Hunk, but plot TT__TT


	9. Merge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they reach his pilot room, he throws them a quick grin over his shoulder. “Hold unto something,” he advises and gives them a split second to do so, before he drops and Acxa screams “You’re! A terrible! Pilot!” at the top of her lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spelled... Harley Quinn wrong... all of this time... and nobody told me...

Lance runs through the woods. His lungs are struggling to cope with the harsh breaths he heaves as he makes way through the trees, but he has a bad feeling in his gut. He doesn’t know what has happened, or what is going to happen, but he knows it can’t be anything Lotor could’ve possibly planned on purpose.

As he runs, he hears his com turn on, and Allura’s voice calls out: “Lance, where are you?”

“Running towards Lumen,” Lance answers. “Are you on your way?”

“We’ll be arriving in the Blue Lion in roughly fifteen dobashes. Kolivan is already on the site, and reports that the building is barricaded by Galra forces who won’t let anyone come in or out,” Allura tells him. “Our main objective is to remove them, and evacuate the civilians caught in the building.” With a heavier voice, she adds: “This must be Zarkon striking.”

Lance licks his lips as he processes the information. “One of the colonists must’ve been working for Zarkon then.” Finally he breaks free from the gathering of trees. People are gathered all over the streets, watching the fire with huge eyes but not daring to come closer. They willingly move as he runs through, and thankfully the streets are easy to navigate as he makes way to Lumen.

Once he gets there, he sees the mob of aliens fighting the barricade of Galra to get inside the building, shouting about loved ones being trapped inside, but the Galra forces are mercilessly beating them down. Lance runs to the nearest high building, and positions himself up on the roof, where a bunch of people are already gathered, staring at the fire and smoke with shocked faces. Lance wonders if they had ever seen something as violent and cynical like this.

“Who are you?” someone asks as Lance takes aim.

He starts to shoot at the Galra soldiers who are carrying the biggest guns. Where his shots would’ve come hesitatingly and stumbling once upon a time, they now steadily rain down the forces, who can’t seem to pinpoint his location because of all the smoke.

“Get inside,” Lance shouts once the Galra start to shoot back, and he doesn’t need to say that twice. He runs to the other side of the building, where he pauses and uses his helmet’s visor to zoom in.

His attack has thinned down the barricade, and with the aid and distraction of the mob, a steady stream of civilians is already leaking through the barricade, but now that the mob has become even more engaged with the Galra forces, it’s harder to shoot without risking anybody innocent getting hurt.

Thankfully, that’s when the Blue Lion arrives with his team.

“We need to widen and secure the passage,” Shiro’s sharp voice says. “Keith, Hunk and I will go help the resistance. Allura, you need to fly around to building, and pick up as many civilians from the balconies as possible. Lance, where are you located?”

“White building on your four, on top of the roof,” Lance answers.

“Do you have a safe range?” Shiro asks.

“No,” Lance replies. “The mob and Galra are getting too physical and the smoke is starting to obscure my vision. I can get Red.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Shiro says. “There are way too many civilians on site and the building is fragile. Another Lion in Lumen’s perimeter will take up too much space.”

“What about Lotor and the other colonists?” Lance asks.

“We don’t know about their whereabouts.” Shiro grunts and Lance sees him kick someone in the chest. “Kolivan says the meeting was most likely going to be underground, so if they haven’t escaped already…”

They were either getting choked by the smoke, or getting burned in alive. Lance feels his hands start to shake.

“You’re permitted to look for them,” Shiro says, a little quietly.

“What?” Keith exclaims. “Why?”

“There’s not much else he can do,” Shiro says and grunts. “This crowd is way too thick for Lance to do much. We need to step up your hand-to-hand training.”

“Retrieving the colonists is of high priority,” Allura interjects, and it sounds like the beginning of a command. “They’re valuable sources of intel and possible opportunities in the future.”  

He envisions Lotor’s cascade of white hair melting in cruel fire, sees him writhe in pain.

A distant roar comes from the back of his mind, and with cold clammy hands he reaches out for it. The team is still talking in his com, but all he can concentrate on is making her come, making her _help him_.

“Princess, how many are left?” Lance asks, and there’s a pause, before Allura answers: “My sonar scanner comes out clear.”

As soon as she says it, Lance permits Red to come and she comes, hotheaded and fast and just as fucking unstable as he has felt for the past few months. He immediately boards her, and for once, he doesn’t mind that she immediately shoots off before he’s even put on his belt.

Bullets start to ricochet off her body as he flies her to the crystal roof, but from there he doesn’t know what to do. Red wasn’t made to dig, and even if he had Yellow right now, there was the risk of burying Lotor and the colonists. Lance could go on foot, but he would never be able to get through the fire on foot.

Helplessly, he stares at his control panel, and eventually he turns off his microphone.

“Red?” Lance asks. “Are you listening?”

Red hums.

“Don’t let him die,” Lance begs.

Red huffs. Lance can tell that she isn’t used to a submissive Paladin; she’s used to a Paladin just as crazy as her, just as intent in barging into any heated situation with guns blazing. That’s why Keith was the first to unlock his Voltron weapon. He didn’t think or ask; he just did.

She roars, and abruptly Lance loses control of her.

“Lance!” Allura shouts. “What are you doing?”

“It’s Red!” Lance shouts, forgetting that he turned off his microphone. Red shoots up into the sky, and for an endless moment, she just floats there as new holograms start to flicker into existence in front of him. The holograms show scans that Lance didn’t know she was even been able to do.

And there, deep beneath the dirt, he sees five heat signatures.

That’s when Red decides to plunge in.

He screams the whole way, as she breaks through barriers of ceilings (floors?) before she eventually reaches the ground.

“How do we get to them?” Lance asks.

_Trust me._

He startles in surprise. She has never talked to him before, and according to Keith, she hadn’t ever talked to him either. He had told Lance that she communicated mainly through intuition, feelings and instincts, so Lance never expected her to chat like Blue. For a moment he feels honored, before he realizes that she probably only talked to him because he’s too thickheaded to understand her through feelings alone.

“You’re a babe,” Lance coos anyway, blowing her an air kiss before she plunges her claws into the ground and starts digging. A tunnel opens up beneath them, and Red sticks in her head.

In front of him, looking ridiculously small, the Generals and Lotor are clumped together. Lotor is carrying an unconscious Ezor, Zethrid looks badly burned (her fur and skin is melted together), but is standing and Acxa is supporting Narti.

Red roars at them.

“What the fuck, Red,” Lance mutters and she sends back a feeling of insult. She was just trying to sound reassuring.

“We have a lot to talk about your communication skills,” Lance tells her, and he can _feel_ her metaphorically rolling her eyes at him, as she opens her mouth.

With no hesitation, the group of Galra runs into her mouth and Lance wonders how desperate they must be to accept help from Voltron.

Just as they all enter her mouth, she alerts him about a possible explosion coming for the opposite side of the tunnel and she snaps her mouth closed and sets off. Debris and roofs fall onto them, but eventually they reach the sky

\- where fighter jets are waiting for them.

They immediately fire, and Red is about to shoot lasers out of her mouth, when Lance realizes that he forgot to actually unlock the passage between her mouth and belly.

She immediately stops her laser attack, but that causes Lotor and his Generals to tumble out of her mouth and into the free air, and he swirls her around, making her catch them with her mouth. This time he unlocks the passage from her mouth to his pilot room, and makes sure to fly as still as possible as he returns fire. He can feel them move through her body through her senses, which is always weird. If he didn’t know how it felt to have small beings living inside him before, he does now.

When they reach his pilot room, he throws them a quick grin over his shoulder. “Hold unto something,” he advises and gives them a split second to do so, before he drops and Acxa screams “You’re! A terrible! Pilot!” at the top of her lungs.

Even Lance has had difficulties getting used to Red’s speed, so he doesn’t really mind when Narti throws up on Red’s floor. It’s almost familiar; reminded him of the good old days, though Narti’s puke doesn’t smell half as bad as Hunk’s. He turns on his microphone.

“Princess,” he says. “I’ve got Lotor and his Generals. The building should be clear.”

“Retreat to the Castle,” she tells him.

“They’re in need of medical attention,” Lance reports back.

“Permission granted,” she says because she’s low-key still the leader of Voltron. “Watch your back, Lance.”

“Aw, you worried about me, Princess?” he answers to which she doesn’t bother answering.

He takes off, and only when the sky is clear, does he put Red on autopilot and stand up from his pilot seat.

The image that greets him startles him. He has never seen them look so defenseless and helpless. The Generals and Lotor look like a pile of burned meat wearing broken armors. Where they aren’t burned, they’re bruised and bloody. And well, Lance is a human being, who is capable of feeling sympathy. Still, he’s been in this game long enough to not let pain be mistaken for weakness. People are at their strongest when they’re the most desperate.

Still, he kneels in front of them to not seem towering and threatening.

“I’m taking you back to the Castle,” Lance informs, looking at their faces and trying to meet their eyes. “There, you will receive help from Coran. If you so much as growl at him, you’ll be put in a cryo pod. Understood?”

Acxa, Narti and Lotor nod. Ezor is still unconscious, and Lance notices she’s bleeding from her head. Zethrid is staring at the wall, and he suspects that she’s in shock.

Red lands in the Castle’s hangar, and Lance helps support Narti (again he finds his arm around her waist, why) as they make way through the long halls

“The hospital’s healing pods are full,” Allura tells him. “You need to reserve four healing pods.”

“Roger,” Lance says, but that leaves him with four pods and while he’s pretty sure Ezor and Zethrid are the one most in need, he has an inkling that the rest of them are pretty badly injured as well. Something black is oozing from Acxa’s waist armor, Lotor seems to be in pain with every step he takes and Narti can barely walk.

When they get to the infirmary, Coran is waiting for them. He looks at them with an unnervingly hard expression, before using the control panel to raise five patient benches from the floor. He helps Lance get Narti settled on one, while Lotor places Ezor on another. Zethrid settles on one without help, but remains expressionless and distant.

“You’ll all need to change your clothes to not pollute the healing pods,” Coran informs as he quickly dismantles Zethrid’s armor. “Which one of you suffers from the least injuries?”

“I don’t require a pod,” Lotor answers.

“Prince,” Acxa immediately protests.

“Not now,” Lotor snaps, and she looks at him in dejection, before going to undress Ezor.

Embarrassed Lance looks away.

“Lance,” Coran calls. Lance jumps to his side, and Coran reaches him a pair of tweezers. “Peel of as much as her undersuit that you can.” Lance gets to work as Coran goes to check on Ezor. As Lance tries to separate cloth from skin, Zethrid starts to whimper. Her yellow-amber-brown eyes are blinking quickly as she stares at the ceiling. Lance wonders if she’s trying not to cry. He wonders if she’s even capable of crying.

By the time he’s peeled off her undersuit, she’s closed her eyes. Coran wordlessly reaches Lance a salve, and he rubs it in where her burns are the worst. Steadily, her breathing calms down.

“Paladin?” Zethrid hoarsely calls out.

“Yeah?” Lance answers.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

He looks up at her, trying to see if she’s sincere. But he has a feeling she’s not quite as good as lying as Lotor is. “No problem,” he eventually answers.

When he looks at the pods, Ezor and Narti are already in pods and Acxa is bleeding through her healing pod suit. Lotor and Coran practically throw her into a healing pod.

A hand grasps at his armor, and he turns around.

Zethrid’s eyes are calm as they meet his. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“For beating me?” Lance asks, trying to not sound mad about it. It’s convenient that she’s apologizing when her fate is in his hands, but it’s not like she had had the chance to apologize them him. They haven’t exactly been able to speak like this before. “I’d probably be angry too if someone did that to my friend.”

She blinks quickly at him. “Don’t hurt him,” she continues.

He squeezes her hand. “Don’t worry about anything,” he tells her. “We’ll take care of you.”

Behind him, Lotor and Coran’s footsteps come towards them.

Gently, Lotor pulls her up on her feet. She groans and wobbles. Quickly, Coran takes her other arm, and they carry her to the pod. Once the doors have been slammed shut, Coran turns around to Lotor and silently points at a clean bench.

Lotor sends Coran a look, before he places himself down. A scan shows that Lotor has broken three posterior ribs, has sprained both of his ankles, and has a severe case of concussion.

Coran has just injected him with a shit ton of painkillers when the team barges in.

\----

“So, your dad tried to kill you,” Keith pipes up, almost a little mockingly.

Lance holds back the impulse to groan.

Lotor would probably have had a retort if he hadn’t been so high on drugs.

For now, he lies on his stomach, stripped of his armor and blinks slowly at them as if he’s not quite sure if they’re real. Apparently what Coran had injected him with had also been extremely calming (“You can never be too safe!” Coran had preened), and he barely seems to care about the team practically hovering over him.

Lotor snorts, making his hair pulse with it. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He squints at them, and then frowns when his eyes fall on Pidge. “That one is awfully small.”

Lance giggles, and Pidge throws him a withering look.

“Did the other colonists get away?” Allura asks.

Lotor blinks at her. “At least 10 of them did,” he answers. “Are you interrogating an injured and drugged patient?”

“Prisoner,” Allura corrects, a little gloating. “What was the meeting about?”

Lotor looks at her, and starts to close his eyes.

“Allura,” Lance says, trying to keep his voice quiet. “Maybe we should let him sleep this off for now? It’s been a long day.”

“He could be gone in the morning,” Allura angrily whispers back.

“He’s not leaving without his generals, and it’ll take at least some quintents for them to heal,” he answers. “Besides, he’s not exactly capable of running right now. His injuries will take months to heal on their own.”

“Lance is right,” Shiro says. “Lotor is a prisoner, but that doesn’t mean we’re entitled to interrogate him in his condition, without at least allowing him a night of rest.”

“He’s not in pain!” Allura exclaims.

“He’s drugged,” Shiro replies.

Allura does not look impressed with this, and they have a staring contest for a while, before Allura visibly drops it.

“I expect him ready to talk tomorrow,” she says. “Lance, see to it that he is placed in one of the guest rooms with a bathroom available and lock him in. He shouldn’t need a new dose of pain killers until tomorrow noon.”

\----

Lance supports rather than escorts Lotor to the guest room. Lotor is quiet the whole way, and Lance can’t help but wonder what the heck must be going on in his head.

He drops by his own room on the way, and regretfully makes Lotor support himself against the wall as he gathers his skin care, robe, clothes, towels and lots of water pouches.

Lotor looks at him in question when Lance comes out carrying a big bag.

“Who said I couldn’t lock myself in with you?” Lance asks.

Lotor huffs. “You must be a fool, red Paladin.”

Lance shrugs, and helps Lotor get off the wall. “Makes us two.”

\----

In the guest room, Lance types in his personal code and makes the room go into lockdown. He only notices the ache in his muscles when he has finished undressing Lotor, and helped him into the bathroom.

The shower stall isn’t as big as Lance would like it to be, but it would have to do. As the water falls down on Lotor and washes the worst of the grime off his body, Lance brushes grime and dirt out of his hair. Lotor does his best to keep his back straight, but keeps swaying.

“Why are you doing this?” Lotor asks at some point.

Lance blinks. “So the sheets don’t become dirty?”

“Being kind to us.” Lotor’s eyes are closed underneath the stream of water coming from his scalp.

Lance smiles. “That’s what it means to be a Paladin,” he answers. “We try to save everybody – even the bad guys.”

Lotor is quiet for a while, and Lance gets the feeling that isn’t what Lotor meant.

“Up you go.” Lance pulls Lotor up on his feet. He isn’t quite sure where to touch that would hurt Lotor the least, but thankfully the Prince seems to have become more energized with the shower and is walking back into the bedroom himself. He needs help to get dressed though.

“You’re good at this,” Lotor notices as Lance tucks him in.

Lance smiles down at him, and Lotor smiles back.

“Things are going to be okay,” Lance says. “I will take a shower, and sleep on the other bed. You should sleep.”

\----

Of course, Lance does not get to sleep after the shower. No, he is dragged into the lounge room, and receives a scolding that, honestly, is long overdue.

“Just tell me,” Shiro groans when Lance shrugs for the 30th time. “Is it something that we did that makes you act like this?”

When Shiro says ‘act like this’, he means Lance sneaking out, acting out, calling Red when he was told not to, turning off his microphone, and lots of other shit he pulled the past few months.

“No, no, no, hey man, of course not,” Lance quickly assures. “I don’t know, Shiro. You’re a great leader pal and all, and I mean, I don’t ever go against your orders do I?”

Shiro narrows his eyes, because he knows that’s technically true, and Keith says, “I think it’s because I’m the leader now.”

Lance’s head whips towards Keith. “Aw, buddy, don’t be like that, you’re doing fine! It was a rocky start, but – “

“ – but you started helping him,” Pidge interrupts. “I think Keith is right. Lance isn’t rebelling, he’s just used to having more responsibility.”

Keith nods. “That’s what I meant.”

Lance puts his hand on his chest. “Pidge. I’m flattered.”

They roll their eyes. “I think it’s something we’re all going through right now, though Lance might show it more clearly. You’re a good leader, Shiro; you guided us every step of the way, but when you disappeared, we all had to become much more independent. And Lance – as much as I hate to say it – lead the three of us on bigger missions. And with how the leadership is in Voltron right now…”

“What are you trying to say?” Shiro asks, looking oddly vulnerable.

Pidge sighs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it feels like we have three leaders? Keith is our official field leader, but you guide him and in the meanwhile, Allura is telling all of us what to do. But I don’t mean that in a negative way!” They quickly add when Shiro and Allura look dejected. “I mean it in a positive way! It’s less about rank, and more about roles and how to help with what we’re best at.”

“So you’re saying that because there’s no clear authority figure, Lance feels less compelled to fall into line?” Shiro translates with a furrowed brow.

Pidge looks at Lance and guffaws. “One word: Third semester.”

Lance shoots them a look of betrayal, and they open their mouth in glee, before Lance quickly interrupts: “They don’t need to hear about that, thank you. Look, Shiro, Keith, Allura, you’re all doing awesome. What Pidge says might be true, but honestly, I’m just being really selfish lately, okay?”

“It’s also my fault,” Hunk breaks out.

Lance frowns and looks at Hunk, who had been quiet the whole time. “What are you going on about, bro?”

“He doesn’t remember,” Keith tells Hunk and clears his throat, which only makes Lance even more confused.

Hunk looks at Lance and Lance looks at Keith and Hunk and Pidge starts to very busily tap on their tablet and Allura looks at her nails.

“Uh, about that,” Shiro says, very awkwardly. “Do you remember when you came back drunk and – “

The door to the lounge slides open, and they all jump up in alarm.

Lotor is standing there, squinting in the sharp light. “Lance?” he calls out.

Quickly, before Keith or Allura try to kill him, Lance jumps up and goes to his side. “How the Hell did you get out of your room?” he hisses.

“Walked,” Lotor slurs, placing his chin on Lance’s shoulder as he leans all of his weight onto Lance.

Behind them, Lance hears Allura and Coran gasp. Not understanding why, he looks up at Lotor, and sees that the curtains of hair has slid off Lotor’s face, and –

Lotor’s pupils have shifted from black to violet, his face traits seem less sharp, and two fuchsia Altean marks glow underneath his eyes.


	10. Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I do,” Lance interrupts. “But at the end of the day Voltron comes first, Lotor. This is not only the universe we’re talking about; it’s my home planet, my family. If I have to lock you up in a cryo pod, then so be it. If I have to poke your head to make sure you’re not going to stab me in the back, then I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys  
> guuuuuys  
> this chaPTER
> 
> this chapter presents a little alternative interpretation of Lotor and his Generals. The interpretation isn't really my headcanons per se, but I like it nonetheless and I hope you'll like it too. 
> 
> another dialogue-heavy chapter. next chapter will be from Lotor's POV!
> 
> Thank you so much for all the feedback last chapter! A lot of new people decided to comment, and it was so niiiiice. Keep it coming, i love talking to you!

“I-It can’t be,” Allura stutters and rather suddenly, she sits down on the couch, where she slumps. Shiro puts a hand on her arm as she stares at Lotor in tired frustration. “Of all the people in the universe, you had to be an Altean.”

Lotor looks puzzled. “No, I’m not,” he very obviously lies.

It’s only when Lance strokes one of the marks with his fingertip that Lotor startles with realization. Immediately his face starts to shift, and his face features once again become sharper, black deepens his eyes and the energy marks disappear.

“And he shape shifts too,” Allura groans, which must mean that Lotor has a fairly high percentage of Altean blood in his veins.

This revelation shouldn’t change anything, and yet Lance knows that it has. If Allura has a weakness, it’s everything that has something to do with Altea. Every time something that reminds her of home is presented to her, she’s cracks and Lance can’t blame her.

“I’m gonna put this guy to bed,” Lance announces, and before Allura can protest, he adds: “And all of you should go sleep too. We were going to interrogate him later, remember?”

“Lance’s right,” Shiro says, and Pidge playfully adds “For once.” before yawning.

“I’ll see to it that only the seven of us can access the Castle’s systems,” Coran says. He looks pale. “He probably got through lockdown because the Castle is still wired to respond to Altean DNA.”

“I’m not Altean,” Lotor growls. “I’m very Galra.”

Pidge snorts, and Lance suppresses a smile.

“When are my sisters coming out of the pods?” Lotor asks.

Lance does not believe his own ears.

“This night is only becoming more interesting,” Shiro dryly comments.

Lotor tries his best to glare at them and seemingly without him noticing, he loses his hold on his cunning Galra appearance and the Altean features emerge again.

“Your sisters will finish healing throughout the next two quintents,” Coran informs, looking tired.

“I need to see them,” Lotor demands.

“Handsome,” Lance interrupts, and Lotor turns his snarling face towards Lance. “Let’s go back to your room and take a nap, yeah?”

Lotor’s face settles into a pout, but he doesn’t shake off the arm Lance puts around his waist. No one offers to help as they stagger towards the door. Lance sends the team a thumbs up over his shoulder, and just before the doors slide closed, he sees the upset look on Hunk’s face.

\----

It’s the noise the Castle’s system makes when a lockdown is revoked, that wakes Lance. He sits up and blinks quickly, sure that it could only have been a few hours since he fell asleep staring at Lotor’s face, but a glance at the digital watch on the ceiling makes it a definite thing: It’s noon.

At the sound Lotor immediately jumps up from bed, his eyes sweeping the room for his sword. They eventually stop when they see Coran at the door, and Coran holds carefully still.

Then Lotor grimaces and sits down on the bed, rubbing his swollen ankles.

“I’ve got your painkillers!” Coran announces in a chipper voice.

“I don’t want any,” Lotor sourly declines.

Lance stands up and yawns. “Come on, Handsome, your… everything has got to hurt by now.”

“No thank you.” With difficulty Lotor lifts his feet up on the bed again, and lies down on his stomach.

Coran looks at Lance as if Lance knows what to do with the Galra-Altean.

“Hey, if he doesn’t want to, we can’t force him,” Lance eventually says, a little irritated. Could Lotor at least try to make this situation easier?

At the feeling of irritation, Lance tries to tell himself that it’s because he genuinely doesn’t want to force Lotor, but honestly he remembers why he’d been angry with Lotor the last time they saw each other, and if the asshole wants to be in pain, well, Lance would definitely let him.

Coran shrugs. “Lunch is ready, Lance,” he says, and leaves.

When the doors slide closed and the lockdown reinstated, Lance goes to the bathroom.

“You know, you’ll be interrogated whether you’re in pain or not,” he tells Lotor, finding a toothbrush in his bag, and throwing an extra to Lotor. Lance starts brushing his teeth, and Lotor soon joins him. They brush their teeth, and as Lance meets Lotor’s eyes in the mirror, the scene strikes him as oddly domestic.

“I’m not going to make it easier on you if I have to,” Lotor answers and spits in the sink. Lance rolls his eyes, and spits too.

“We’re not going to tie you up and beat you and throw your sisters into prison cells,” Lance says because he’s petty like that.

Lotor flinches, but it happens so quickly that Lance nearly misses it. “Are you still angry?” he asks, trying to come off as irritated instead of bothered.

Lance rinses his lips and turns around to look at Lotor. “Have you apologized yet?” he asks.

The Galra-Altean’s lips purse. He doesn’t look pleased, but there’s something in his eyes that tells Lance that he might be taking Lance seriously this time.

“You know, your men call me a whore every time I leave the Lion during battle. I need to cover my face every time I’m trying go civilian,” Lance continues. “You’re not the only one who was hit by those pictures. But never would I have thought that you of all people would call me something like that.”

Lotor doesn’t answer.

“You took my virginity on the front seats of your fucking _pod_ ,” Lance exclaims. “What the Hell is wrong with you?”

“I didn’t sleep with any others,” Lotor blurts.

Lance frowns. “What?”

Lotor meets Lance’s eyes. “I hurt someone I cared about,” Lotor lowly continues. “How was I supposed to go out and find somebody else to be with after that? I could barely sleep at night. But you were just… moving on.”

Tilting his head, Lance tries to see if Lotor is lying.

“I’m sorry. I was sorry the tick I said it,” Lotor adds, more quietly. “I know it was simply my jealousy and my … my guilt that came over me, and that my anger doesn’t make sense. I know it isn’t your fault, and to be truthful, even if you were... that kind of person, it wouldn’t change anything. Not about how I… feel.”

He says the last word like it’s poison, but Lance feels some of his anger seep away. He knows it’s not the word in itself that hurt him, that angered him. He isn’t the promiscuous type, never had the chance to be, but if he had been he wouldn’t have been ashamed of it. There’s nothing wrong with having sex with lots of people.

What had hurt is that the one Lance cares about, the one Lance admitted that he adores, intentionally called him a word he knew would hurt Lance. Had spat it out like Lance was somehow not a good person anymore. Like Lance was no longer worthy of his time or attention.

“It wouldn’t change how I feel about you,” Lotor says, sounding surer now and Lance wonders if it’s because he can tell that it’s helping his case. “And I want to treat you right, I want to give you the world, but sometimes I just give up beforehand. What is the point? You and I, we’re on opposites sides of this war.”

Somewhere inside, Lance suspects that Lotor might only be apologizing because he’s Voltron prisoner and he needs someone to vouch for him. But as Lance looks at him, he just knows that even if Lotor is being honest for all the wrong reasons, it’s still honesty nonetheless. Lance can’t help but feel a little like a fool as he thinks it.

Lance meets Lotor’s eyes as he tries to push his feelings away. Right now he isn’t just Lance, he’s also a Paladin and he can’t afford to make more stupid decisions.

He doesn’t want to talk about this, but he knows he has to. “We don’t have to be, you know,” he calmly states. “What do you even gain in this war?”

Lotor meets Lance’s eyes. “Voltron is never going to win,” he says, and his voice is sure. “You can’t possibly have the time to undo the Galra Empire, before meeting your own shortcoming. If I become your ally, or even just a neutral party, my father will have fleets sent my way. He will burn my colonies to the ground, and I don’t want to think about what he’s going to do with me. Or you. He already knows about our affair.”

It makes sense. The pictures were seen by most of the Galra army. Zarkon is alive.

Lance starts to sweat.

“What I do affects my sisters as well,” Lotor continues. “If I betray the Empire, they’ll be executed as traitors, solely because they once swore their loyalty to me.”

Lance has wondered and hoped for a good enough reason that Lotor stood on the opposite side of the war, and he’s received it. Now he understands why Lotor has been unable to move his stance despite his lack of interest in the Empire and in the Galra army. But as expected, it hasn’t made anything easier.

Lance looks down at his hands, and doesn’t know what to say. He wants Lotor. God knows that he does. And his sisters, well. Yeah, Narti freaks him out and Ezor has an annoying voice, but they had actually been nice to him when they thought he had been a local. They hadn’t ever killed innocents – brainwashed them maybe, but never killed them. And maybe that takes a lot more than Lance initially thought.

“I’m sorry,” Lotor says, and Lance feels a cold hand rest on his cheek. He looks up, and Lotor has at some point moved closer. “I didn’t mean to burden you.”

“I’m glad that you told me like it is,” Lance says and sighs. “Though you’re wrong. We’re going to win.”

“I hope you do,” Lotor whispers and presses his lips against Lance’s forehead.

“But I understand,” Lance says, and engulfs Lotor in an embrace. The Galra-Altean sighs. And Lance wonders what the Hell they’re going to do.

They stand there for a while. It’s surreal that Lotor is here, holding him in the _Castle_. Lotor is a world full of secrets and shadows, a world full of music, more alcohol than Lance would care to admit, and suffocation (in both the literal as well as the metaphorical sense).

The Castle is a world of wakeup calls, alarms, insomnia, training, friendship and solidarity, laughter, heartbreak and stitches.

The two worlds didn’t clash.

Until now.

“You have to be honest with the team,” Lance says and pulls away. “I don’t know what I can do to change things, but my friends they’re…”

Amazing. It doesn’t even matter if they had ever become Paladins. Lance knows his friends have and will continue to change the world.

“Innovative,” Lance decides. “They’ll know what to do. Unless you have any better ideas?”

Lotor shrugs. “I thought I was going to burn alive 13 hours ago, so not really.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Lance assures. “Now get out, I have to pee.”

\----

At the dinner table, Allura looks like she hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Coran looks a little better than her, but he’s always been better at hiding when he’s feeling distressed. Hunk looks like he’s low-key constipated, Pidge is typing on their laptop while inhaling their goo and Keith seems more energized, flushed with wet hair. He probably trained before lunch because he’s hardcore like that. In the beginning of Voltron Lance had thought it was annoying – like Keith was always trying to one-up him – but when he found out that Keith needed exercise preferably of the aggressive sort, to not feel isolated and claustrophobic, Lance started to appreciate that Keith had at least one healthy coping mechanism.

“Quiet night?” Shiro asks, when Lance sits down besides him with a bowl of goo.

“Yeah,” Lance answers. “The drugs are wearing off. I think he’s pretty upset with his situation, but at least he’s not afraid.”

“Why do you say that like it’s a good thing?” Keith asks, pointing at Lance with his spork. “He’s our prisoner, and he’s sleeping in a room better than ours.”

Lance shrugs, because _touché_. If it had been anybody but Lotor in that room, Lance would definitely have been the first person to have a problem. “We talked this morning,” Lance says. “It just made me grateful that when we entered this war, we did it with the universe’s most powerful weapon.”

He tries not to look at Shiro too much as he says it. Out of all of them, Shiro knows how powerless they are without Voltron.

“You might want to consider the fact that’s he’s lying,” Pidge interjects, voice neutral.

“I am,” Lance says a little sharply, maybe a little bit annoyed, but he knows that at the end of the day, he’s fucking the enemy and it’s only a good thing that the team makes him aware of how that might make him weak. Even if it feels like they’re doing it over and over again. “He’s whimsical at best. I’m just saying that this situation might not be as black and white as we think.”

Allura sighs, and rubs her eyes. “I have to agree with you on that. I don’t like Lotor,” she quickly adds. “And I never will. His heritage does nothing to change that. But this situations needs to be handled with caution; there might be more to gain than we initially thought.”

“Are you speaking about an alliance?” Shiro asks, his posture growing tense, but he doesn’t sound too opposed.

Allura nods, looking at their faces one by one. “I’ve given this great thought, and as much as I hate to admit it, what evil has Lotor in reality done?”

“He freaking brainwashed people,” Keith is quick to answer. “Or am I the only one who remembers Puig?”

“Yeah, but there hasn’t been any Galra on Puig since Lotor conquered it,” Pidge points out. “As far as I can tell, this actually secures Puig from further invasion.”

“Still, there’s the question about what his true motives are,” Shiro muses.

Lance pokes at his goo, an idea starting to grow in his mind. “What about the sleep pod?” he asks. “I mean, it would give us an idea of how his mind works and the motivations behind his actions, right?”

“You’re not being serious,” Keith says, a little shocked. “Remember what happened the last time? We almost died!”

“But that’s because the crystal was plugged in, and Sendak was Galra and ‘an unwilling participant’,” Lance says, quoting the last part in Coran’s accent. “Lotor is at least half-Altean, so that should also make the whole memory extraction easier.” More confidently, he continues: “We offer him a bargain, but in return we get to raid his head. I mean, there is a lot we could gain from Lotor as an ally. I, for one, would rather have Lotor be the official colonist of a planet and that planet being left alone because of it, than liberating them and leaving them vulnerable. Isn’t that exactly what happened with Puig?”

“That’s a surprisingly nice plan, except Lotor’s dad is trying to kill Lotor?” Pidge drawls.

“That isn’t necessarily a problem,” Shiro says. “Zarkon can’t shun him officially; it’d set a bad example in a system built on fascism. Considering that Lotor was in a position of power until the last thing? I doubt that he ever lost his title as prince, despite this clearly not being the first time his father tried to kill him.”

Lance, who’s been eating his goo steadily throughout the conversation, puts his spork on the edges of his empty bowl. “Why would it paint Zarkon as a bad leader though?” he asks. “As I see it, that guy does whatever he wants.”

Allura clears her throat. “Well, Zarkon was always a great leader, and great leaders reward hard work and punish disobedience. He does this, but to an extreme. If he openly kills someone who appears to be a good servant, it’ll make his followers feel unsafe and less compelled to trust and honor him. More than violence, faithfulness is truly was makes an army strong,” she explains, and wipes her mouth with a napkin. “Besides that, the loyalty of his followers is partly based on worship; on his image as immortal, powerful and invincible. If he shows others that he feels threatened, they’ll see it as a weakness and weakness inspires mutiny.”

“So what do we do?” Keith asks.

The next two hours, they talk about different possibilities. Eventually Lance reminds them that Lotor might want lunch and painkillers by now. Then they talk for an hour more, but at last it’s finally settled and Lance is given a script of what to say.

\----

Lance rests his palm against the scanner and types in his code with the hand that isn’t carrying the tray full of water pouches and bowls of goo (Lance doesn’t know how much Lotor eats and it must’ve been a while since Lotor ate last). The doors slide open, but Lance still knocks the doorframe to be polite.

Lotor is lying on the bed, staring at the wall, looking like a freaking wacko, and barely moves when Lance moves forwards to put the tray on the table.

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much,” Lance greets.

“When are my sisters healed?” Lotor asks. “When can I see them?”

Lance smiles. He thought Lotor would ask that, so he made sure to ask Coran before he left. “Narti should be finished healing in about 15 vargas, Zethrid and Acxa should be done in a quintent, and Ezor will have finished healing in two quintents.”

At that Lotor seems to relax, and he finally notices the food. He drinks two pouches first, and makes a face at the goo as he picks up his spork. “Prisoner food,” he dryly comments.

Lance snorts and lies down on the other bed. As anxious as he is about this conversation, it’s nice to skip training and relax for once. “Sorry to say it, but goo is pretty much the only thing we have right now. We don’t exactly have the greatest stock of long-lasting foods, but it actually makes a great hydration face mask.”

Lotor simply shakes his head and digs in. “So I trust your team has come to a decision and they sent you to butter me up.”

“Uh, true, but still rude,” Lance theatrically exclaims. “To your knowledge, you have much greater options than our friend Sendak.”

“Do they involve betraying the Empire?”

“Uh. Define ‘betray the Empire’,” Lance nervously deflects. All of his plans of the best ways to offer the proposal fly out of his head as Lotor seems to jab at him. “Are you still a Prince? I mean, your dad did kinda try to kill you.”

Lotor huffs. “I remain a Prince, but the next couple of years I’ll have to keep a low profile,” Lotor tells him. “Eventually, he’ll forget to send assassins.”

Lance whistles in sympathy. “Glad it ain’t me.”

“So what is it that you want from me?” Lotor asks, moving his empty bowl aside and practically inhaling the goo of the second.

“Well,” Lance says, hesitant. “You don’t actually have to do much. You can keep a low profile, but first off, we’d appreciate it if you expanded your colony.”

“I thought Voltron was opposed to colonialism?” Lotor asks.

“Well, the first thing you did when we liberated Puig was to take it back, and many other Galra wouldn’t have done it any differently,” Lance answers. “But what’s the worst thing that happened to Puig since you conquered it?”

Lotor looks confused for a second, before realization dawns. He nods. “Go on.”

“The second thing we want is information, and the third thing is for you to leave the Blade of Marmora alone,” Lance adds. “But our most important condition, is for you to not prod your head into our affairs. You can pretend to be loyal to the Empire, but when it comes down to it, do not aid it.”

“You want me to aid you?”

“Only through information,” Lance explains. “But really, we’d like for you and your sisters to just stay out of our way. Sorry to say it, Handsome, but you’ve been a constant pain in our ass ever since you showed up.”

“And if I refuse this deal?”

Lance picks at his clothes. He was hoping that Lotor would immediately agree to the deal, and Lance wouldn’t have to propose the second and final option. “You and your sisters go into a cryo pod, until the universe has established a jurisdiction system,” Lance eventually mutters.

“And when you lose, and your Castle is burned down?” Lotor asks, a mean note in his voice.

Lance shrugs. “You’ll burn too, I guess.”

“And the comet?”

“No matter what option you pick, we’ll find it and it’ll be locked away in the Castle,” Lance informs. “No one is going to play with it.”

“Yet,” Lotor adds.

It’s quiet for a while, and Lotor eats almost silently.

“So what’s the catch?” Lotor finally asks.

Lance makes a face, before he drops the bomb. “We’ll run a memory extraction program on your mind.”

Lotor stops eating. Of all the things Lance has listed, he knows this might be the biggest deal breaker for Lotor. A lot of Lotor’s power lays in his secrecy, in his knowledge. If Voltron has any chance of exposing these secrets, Lotor won’t have as many advantages in the future.

“It was my idea,” Lance confesses.

“Why would you suggest that?” Lotor asks. “You know – “

“I do,” Lance interrupts. “But at the end of the day Voltron comes first, Lotor. This is not only the universe we’re talking about; it’s my home planet, my family. If I have to lock you up in a cryo pod, then so be it. If I have to poke your head to make sure you’re not going to stab me in the back, then I will. You have until evening to decide.”

\----

“Hey, Lance,” Hunk calls out, after Lance has told the team that Lotor would like to think about it.

Lance stops and smiles. He puts his hand on Hunk’s buff biceps, squeezing it. “Hey buddy. How are you feeling?”

Stupid question. Hunk has looked close to an anxiety attack every time Lance has seen him the past few days, and honestly Lance has been too busy and perhaps a bit to self-focused to properly pay attention to it.

“Can we talk?” Hunk asks. “Uh, has the team told you about what happened when you…”

Lance tilts his head in lack of understanding, but when Hunk only flushes and looks like he’s ready to throw up, Lance quickly looks around for a space with privacy.

He leads Hunk to their sleeping quarters, and locks them into a random empty room. It looks identical to his own room, but it’s empty and cold. He doesn’t turn on the light, instead navigating with the help of the dim nightlight.

Gently he makes Hunk sit down, fearing that Hunk might faint and hit his head.

“Hey,” Lance says, trying to sound soothing. “You’re okay, yeah?”

“I’m not,” Hunk breaks out. “Well, I thought I was, but then it turned out you weren’t and now I’m not okay. I feel like the biggest asshole; the team _knows_ I’m a fucking asshole.”

Surprised that Hunk is cursing, Lance lifts his brow. “Hey, start from the beginning,” he says. “What happened?”

“You came home drunk from Lumen,” Hunk says. “And in front of the team, you asked me why I didn’t just reject you from the start. And I said… I said…”

Lance tenses, surprised though he shouldn’t be. After all he’s always been prone to let his feelings out when he’s drunk the right amount of liquid courage. But he tastes bile at the back of his throat, and he gets the horrible feeling that he’s done this before, and that he doesn’t want to know. His body remembers and it doesn’t want to relive it.

“I was scared you might not want me as a mechanic,” Hunk whimpers. “If I rejected you. I didn’t care about gender and stuff, and I thought that if time passed, I would surely… But I didn’t and… I didn’t know you were still waiting, I swear, if I had known…”

He starts to cry, but Lance doesn’t really feel sorry for him. Almost numbly he stares at Hunk’s face, and while he’s sad, bitter, he also can’t bring himself to be angry at Hunk. He of all people knows how insecure Hunk had been in the first year of Garrison. Lance had been his security blanket, and Hunk had been Lance’s security blanket too. It had worked, except it hadn’t.

“It’s fine,” Lance says. He sounds far away. The dim blue glow of the room’s light doesn’t save Hunk from the shadows swallowing his slumped figure. “You’re a fucking dick, but I mean, we were 16. I can’t stay mad at you. We ain’t kids no more.”

Hunk hugs him, and it’s not okay, not by any measure. But Lance doesn’t have time for a couples therapy, he doesn’t want the team to be dragged even further into this mess and right now he has other things to worry about.

\----

When Lance arrives with dinner later that day, Lotor has his answer ready. As they all expected, Lotor accepts.


	11. Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I be honest?  
> Mentally and emotionally, this chapter put me in a really rough place.  
> Please read through the warnings very carefully.
> 
>  
> 
> **WARNINGS**
> 
>  
> 
> **References to non-con pregnancy, breeding programs, lobotomy, child death, and PVS (Permanent Vegetative State).**

_Let me in._

_\----_

_Where are you from?_

Lotor is a late adolescent when he sees his mother for the first time. He doesn’t exactly gain permission to do so, but lately he’s had… thoughts. About her. About himself and why he was brought into this world. And he thinks they might shroud his judgment, might ruin his supposed purpose.

So he needs to actually see her, and though he knows it’ll only hurt him, he has to. He can’t keep deluding himself; indulge in a dream of freedom that’ll never come true. He needs a reminder of why he’s truly here, and where he’ll end up if he rebels. 

The cryo chamber is so cold that the air bites, and the lights coming from the ceiling are yellow. They provide the sleeping Alteans artificial sunlight, because Alteans are like that. They need sunlight; their genetic code doesn’t trace them back to cold, dark planets.

He navigates through the dozens of beds, and it’s only because of the numbers glowing on the bed frames, that he notices her. If anyone had asked, he would say that he felt nothing in that moment, but privately he knows that isn’t true.

Like all of the Altean royal line, her hair is white and her skin is dark brown with red undertones. He read in her journal that her energy marks were once pink, a lighter shade than his, but now they have faded into the darkness of her skin.

He wonders what she would’ve been like if she had had the chance to live past adolescence. If she would have been as smart as Alfor; after all that had been why she had been picked as his birthmother. They wanted him to be as clever as Alfor, and considering that she’s the deceased king’s great great grandniece, the probability had been greater by choosing her.

He wonders what she would’ve thought about him if she had known him, if she would’ve liked him. He quickly dismisses the thought; the only thing he inherited was her royal bloodline and the curse of her ancestors. He was only a seed forcefully planted in her body, and he had grown within her, drank from her water and been nourished by her quintessence, without her consent or knowledge. She had had the procedure done long before he was conceived.

He wonders if she had been strong, clever or kind, but that thought he also quickly pushes away. Bred, born and raised in captivity, the once proud Alteans had withered into shadows of themselves. Alteans needed starlight, water and fresh air in their lungs. Without it, they couldn’t grow. Lotor doesn’t understand why that keeps being such a disappointing surprise to the Galra.

His fingers run through her hair, which has grown past her ankles and crunches with his touch. Only one scar is left from the procedure. It’s right underneath her hairline on her forehead, round and swollen like a sponge.

He wonders if it will be his turn one day: to be strapped down before reaching adulthood, and having his brain sucked out through a tube. He wonders if his body will be left like this: Alive and growing, but frozen in time. Nothing but an empty vessel kept for breeding and battery purposes.

Probably not. He’s only a half-breed after all, his level of quintessence low, his ability to reproduce questionable. Either way he would rather shoot his brains out than end up like this.

Lotor’s hand slides down to her frozen arm. It’s not like she’s dead. Her heart still beats, and her body still absorbs quintessence, just at a very low rate. If he looks at her face and ignores her parlor, he could tell himself that she might only be sleeping.

He looks up from her body. There’s around two dozens of Alteans lying frozen like her, two of them pregnant with children they never consented to have. All of them are bearing the same marks of the procedure as her.

He knows there are three other Alteans, who hasn’t gotten the procedure done, simply because they are merely children and the procedure would definitely kill them. He hasn’t ever seen them; they’re locked away, and they don’t see anybody but Zarkon’s most trusted men. Lotor isn’t even supposed to know about it. The same way he isn’t supposed to know about the sleeping Alteans and his birthmother.

He knows several Alteans have escaped from capture over the years, hence why the prisoners left are watched so carefully and have the procedure done as soon as possible.

\----

_Why were you exiled?_

As Lotor ages, he learns that he is not the only child of Zarkon, just the only one that lived long enough and was worthy of a coronation.

There had been countless before and after him. Those of the male sex, who satisfied Haggar’s standard of usefulness, got promoted and sent to fight in Zarkon’s army. The female offspring who were able to reproduce, however, were sent to breeding camps. To conquer the universe, Zarkon needed as many Galra as possible and there is only so much bots can do. As useful as allies could be, they are not allowed to fight in Zarkon’s army. Other species are not to be trusted to be loyal to the cause.

Once upon a time there had been enough female Galra to both birth children and to enlist in the army, but a disease had broken out many decapheebs ago, and almost wiped away all of the female Galra.

From then on, they were kept in tight quarters. At least, they are treated better than the half-breeds and the Alteans are. After all, happiness is a key to their longevity. They had the right to pick mates like they wished, and it didn’t matter if it was one mate or eight, as long as they produced at least nine children during their lifetime or died trying. If these children were female they’d stay at home, and share the same fate as their mother, eventually having to pick a mate by the age of 16 cycles. The male children were of course drafted when they reached the age of 25 cycles.

It’s only later on in life, when Lotor finds the laboratory by accident, that he learns that Zarkon is actually sterile, a consequence of the dark quintessence that runs in his veins. Haggar actually extracted his genetic makeup from his blood, and created seeds through it.

Most of his siblings die before they reach puberty, but Lotor can’t worry about that. He has to worry about himself. Zarkon is starting to watch him. He has recognized that Lotor’s loyalty to the Empire and his father doesn’t match his level of intelligence.

He needs to protect himself, and so he creates distractions.

So he starts to train his siblings. There are eleven to start with, and he aids them where he can. Teaches them to pass Haggar’s many tests. Teaches them to fight when they feel at their lowest. Teaches them that nobody cares about their feelings of fear or pain, and that feelings in total would only bring their own demise. Survival always comes first. He does it to help himself, but if anyone asked why he exchanged his sisters’ fertility results with infertile ones?

He can’t answer. Maybe he looked at them, and saw his mother. Maybe this was his way to ask for her forgiveness, for redemption. He just can’t bring himself to send them to breeding camps no matter how much he tries to lock his feelings in a dark room in the back of his head.

He tells himself that he does it because they’ll return the favor one day.

So he fakes their healthy fertility results, and fights for their case when Haggar considers their execution as a result. He argues that he trained them himself to fight for the Empire, and that he needs people he knows and trusts.

So Haggar and Zarkon let him keep them, and he tells himself that he didn’t break his own rules, tells himself that it wasn’t because of love that he saved them, that it wasn’t ever weakness.

But they know. He knows they do, but in a world like theirs, feelings are not to be freely admitted, embraced or expanded. Instead his sisters express their thankfulness, their softness through their unconditional loyalty to him and he doesn’t let anyone as much as look at them in return.

It all comes to an end, when Haggar plans to produce another one like him: half-Altean and half-Galra. Why not, when he turned out to do so well?

That night, he wrecks his quarters, and beats a soldier that looked at him wrong. He does whatever he can do to distract himself, but he keeps remembering his birth mother and his agony makes him wish that he never went to see her in the first place.

A week after he found out about Haggar’s plan, he locates the hidden pureblooded Alteans and arranges their quiet escape. They are stupid and weak but eager to have a change at life. They don’t know about the procedure of course, only knows that they’re going to disappear one day. They’re too useless for him to take advantage of, so he sends them far, far away to a planet he knows the Galra will never find. An inhabitable planet with water, plants and starlight.

When Haggar finds out about the Alteans' escape, she immediately suspects him, and he is dragged to the torture chamber. He stays there for two weeks. For some reason it’s only the images of his sisters that keep him from talking.

When he’s finally released, he hasn’t grown smaller, more fearful. No, he is bigger and meaner and the claustrophobia of the torture chamber only makes him crave freedom even more, only fed the sparks of rebellion that grows into a forest fire.

His sisters don’t question him, when he arranges another break-in. They don’t object when he cremates his mother and the other sleeping Alteans alive and blows their ashes into space.

They escape before Zarkon finds out, and officially he is exiled. Unofficially he is hunted for years by Zarkon’s forces. But he knows it will only be a matter of time before they forget about him. Time is on his side.

\-----

_Do you want to end Voltron?_

Lotor is looking for company, when he sees a brown boy sit at the club’s pool. His eyes are sad as he stares at the water, and Lotor suspects that the boy might be the same species as the Champion, but he has seen plenty of Altean mixes that come close to looking like a human so he’s not sure. He eats off Lotor’s hand, the gesture seemingly eager, but his eyes are numb.

The human likes rough guys with money, and even though Lotor has plenty of other options, he indulges and buys the boy whatever he points at. In return, Lotor never has to ask the boy to leave. Like a spirit he forgets Lotor is there as soon as they finish, and when he leaves, he passes through walls, his eyes longing and elsewhere.

Soon the smell of the human’s neck, of his sweat, of his sex, becomes addictive. Lotor’s hands get familiar with the curve of the boy’s thighs, and his lips come to miss the softness of the boy’s neck. Lotor’s greatest weakness has always been that he’s insatiable. He pours up the boy, and drinks every shot and the boy never says no.

“Are you a bad man?” the boy whispers into Lotor’s neck one night, alcohol on his breath as he lets himself be pushed against the wall, and Lotor doesn’t answer.

As time progresses, the boy starts looking tired every time they’ve finished, seems distressed when their mistakes always end up on the bed sheets. Irritable he’s quick to jab, and Lotor finds himself quick to snap back. Once they realize that none of them is going to stop this, their mistake only becomes graver. It makes both of them temperamental. It all reaches its limit when Lotor smashes his fist into the glass window besides the boy’s head, hits it like he fears he might hit the boy. But it doesn’t face the boy at all. He shouts back like he’s not a head smaller than Lotor, like he isn’t alone, vulnerable and fragile right now. Lotor realizes that the boy isn’t afraid of him. The realization hits home so hard that he starts to buy bottles of drink for the afterglow, just so they can avoid fighting.

“Are you a bad man?”

And the boy steals away Lotor’s pride, and despite Lotor’s power, he finds himself compromising, finds himself wanting to please the boy and he learns that the boy will take will away from people who don’t know how to hold themselves back. Still Lotor finds himself coming back. Lotor lets the boy drive, and they race until they nearly crash. The boy dances on tables and beds and on top of hover boards and pods, drags his shirt off with elegant eagerness, softly closes the hotel room door to not disturb Lotor’s sleep. There’s just something about his smile and his boldness, which entrances the Prince. It feels like he can’t look himself in the eyes anymore, and Lotor realizes that he needs the boy.

“Are you a bad man?”

Maybe. Sometimes he does things he has to, things that remind him of something his father would do. It’s not like he wants to be bad, but he doesn’t feel any remorse when he has to be. Feelings never helped, feelings corrupted your intelligence, sabotaged self-preservation. But when the pictures are released, feelings come at Lotor like poison, and he blows up all of his plans in search of revenge, and even though the truth ends up being wrong, it’d been so easy to be angry at the boy, been so easy to hate him for making Lotor bend _every time_ -

“Are you a bad man?”

Forget that the boy brings a smile on Lotor’s lips when he’s anxious, forget that he turns silence into music, forget that he brings color into a world that had looked so dull for so long, forget that he’s been the reason Lotor has been _sleeping_ lately –

“Are you a bad man?”

The Paladin is tied up in Lotor’s chamber, but it doesn’t feel good to finally be in control. Lotor whips the Paladin, and the boy screams, cries out, and there’s a note in it Lotor doesn’t recognizes, and he realizes that it’s fear –

“Are you a bad man?“

Lotor’s mistakes bleed down the boy’s legs, several scars already tainting his back, and Lotor wonders if the wounds he just made really are the first ones. He feels sick to his stomach, he never wanted this –

“Are you a bad man?“

As he pushes into the boy’s body, hungry yet again, the door opens and the smell of the Champion seeps in like airborne disease. Possessive violence flares, and the boy grabs him like he’s a wild animal –

“Are you a bad -”

Who did he fool thinking that he was the one in control? How could he ever think the boy innocent? In the boy’s eyes lies centuries of drought, ice and hardness–

 _“Don’t look at him._ **_Look at me.”_ **

\-----

In the void, Lotor sees the boy. Lance.

But behind him stands the Blue Lion.

Their eyes are glowing golden.

\----

_I adore you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this cleared some things up. A lot of y'all already suspected it, but yes, Lotor couldn't revoke the lockdown just because he's Altean. I hope you enjoyed (?) and that this gave some of y'all closure. I'm looking forwards to hearing you guys thoughts ^^
> 
> EDIT: I feel like a need a little break from this project (it won't be too long). You're welcome to drop by my [tumblr](https://moonrose001.tumblr.com/) and chat in the meanwhile ^^
> 
> EDIT EDIT:
> 
> [GORGEOUS ART MADE BY HARDLYNOTEVER](https://hardlynotnever.tumblr.com/post/165780882545/i-really-enjoyed-reading-hymnless-updates-on-ao3)
> 
> (THANK YOU LOVE)


	12. Starlight and water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been so amazing at giving feedback, and it really pulled me through a rough week. In return, here's an early update :) Enjoy!

The memories are a sequence of clips, forming a fragmented but somewhat cohesive movie. It’s odd, because information is never said out loud, yet they can hear Lotor’s inner thoughts like a weak echo, a voice so full of feeling Lance almost can’t recognize it. They know from the get-go that the more concrete the question is, the more to the point the memories come, and that abstract questions would bring abstract answers.

The first question makes them aware that Lotor’s landscape of memories is wider than they anticipated, and there’s no warning to what they’re going to see. Allura and Coran have to leave the room. Lance can’t imagine how it feels to watch the only known survivors of your people – your family – be used like that, in ways that are so immoral and cynical that Lance feels like he’s going to puke.

Shiro offers to watch the rest without them, but Allura just swallows dryly and asks them to give her a moment.

They’re somewhat more mentally prepared when they learn about the breeding camps, the murder of children, and the invasive fertility tests.

Allura looks a little better, has at least gained some color in her face, when she realizes that previous Altean prisoners have escaped, and because of Lotor, the Galra no longer have any Alteans in their custody. Still, it’s hard to make a judgment on Lotor’s motivations. A small part of Lotor freed the Alteans because it was the right thing to do, but even larger parts of him did it to honor his birthmother in some way and to spite Haggar and Zarkon.

At this point they feel like they’ve gotten what they needed: an idea of Lotor’s motivations (self-preservation) and his goals (freedom and power). There’s a limit on how invasive they’re allowed to be, especially once they realize the nature of the memories, and so they decide not to ask any more personal questions, and instead focus on questions concerning Lotor’s plans for the future, especially regarding Voltron.

The machine, however, is made to show memories, not intentions, and so they’re not quite sure if it will work like they want. In the end they decide to at least give it at try. Shiro asks about Voltron, and at once the somewhat puzzle-format of the clips disappear. Like a flood Lotor’s memories start to emerge, too quickly and fleeting to completely make sense of alone, but in their chain of connection they make a message.

After the team has _definitely_ seen too much they retreat, and let Kolivan and some of his people take over the interrogation, asking for more practical and concrete intelligence. Trusting that Kolivan will transcribe all of the information down, they go to recharge. Lance feels reluctant to leave Lotor, but the team needs to discuss what they saw and how to proceed, and Lance needs to present for that.

“We need to ask for the coordinates of the planet he sent the Alteans to,” Allura hums, wiping invisible green goo away from her mouth.

“I’m sure he will comply,” Coran says. “It doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in their circumstances outside their escape. Lance, can you ask him?”

“Of course!” Lance breaks out. “No need to ask.” He would do just about anything to remove the misery he sees in Coran and Allura’s eyes.

“Are we just going to ignore that Lance was naked in a lot of those memories?” Pidge asks.

“Yes,” everyone answers in unison and Lance suppresses a blush. Whatever, 4/6 of people sitting here have already seen him naked.

“You’re welcome, _Pidge_ ,” he huffs, though Pidge is like his sister and Allura is a Princess, and Lance is actually silently horrified.

“The _Emperor_ of the Galra Empire is in love with Lance,” Keith says, sounding grouchy but curious. “We should just make Lance ask for whatever from now on.”

“Spices,” Hunk pipes up. “New cookware.”

It’s weird, but also nice to finally talk to his team about Lotor in a way that’s less “You _had_ to go start an affair with the Galra Emperor” and more “You have a boyfriend”. Before he always feared the judgment of his team, for them to misunderstand. While he had been able to talk about the pragmatic part of the affair, he never allowed himself to talk about the personal and emotional part.

Maybe what changed is that Lance always knew Lotor wouldn’t hurt him, but now his team knows too.

Shiro rubs his eyes. His lids look dry and flaky, and Lance reminds himself to make Shiro wear his hot/cold eye gel mask more. “He broke a window to not hit you,” he says and sighs. Well, Lance takes that back. “When I sent you out on your own, I told you to stay safe. Is arguing with a Galra until he has to break a window your definition of staying safe?”

“As long as he doesn’t break _me_ and pays for whatever he broke himself,” Lance answers and shrugs, and Shiro looks three seconds away from an aneurism. “Relax, it happened like one time.”

The answer makes Shiro a little tightlipped. “Doesn’t that worry you, Lance?”

“Not really,” Lance answers, recalling that night a lot more distantly than Lotor. “I mean, even when he was his angriest, he never hit me? And… I mean, about the…” He moves his hand in a whipping motion. “I’m surprised about how bad he still feels about it. I mean that has to mean something?”

Keith crosses his arms and throws himself back in the chair. “I have to agree with Lance on this one,” he nonchalantly says. “Considering the guy’s background, I’m surprised he couldn’t pull through.”

Shiro frowns. “I guess. Still, I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Surely, nobody expects anything different of you,” Allura dryly comments, and Shiro sends her a disgruntled look as the team giggles.

Lance nudges Allura. “You alright?”

Allura meets his eyes and smiles a little shakily. “I feel a little better, thank you for asking. As nice as it is to know there are Alteans out there, it…” Her smile fades. “It would’ve almost been kinder if…”

She doesn’t need to end the sentence. They all know what she’s trying to say, and why she can’t say it. Allura never allows the team to see her cry.

“As the Princess of Altea, I am grateful to Lotor for saving my people where I failed them,” Allura continues, after having cleared her throat. “And I’m surprised he hasn’t used them as leverage at all so far. I still don’t trust him however. When his sisters are healed and present, we’ll start negotiations.”

Lance grins, and leans towards her. “Soooo, he’s technically not a prisoner anymore?”

Allura and Shiro look at each other.

“I guess not?” Shiro hesitantly answers.

“Good, I’m moving into his room,” Lance sighs, and stands up with his empty bowl.

“Why not your room?” Shiro asks. “It’s closer to the rest of us and would be safer.”

“Living next door to you might actually be the problem,” Lance cheekily lets Shiro know and winks in the man’s direction. “I’m out!”

He hears the team groan behind him, and he laughs as he sprints through the hallways.

\-----

When Lance bursts into the sleep chamber Kolivan is holding a tablet with questions, and Lance has no idea who the fuck permitted this guy to do his thing without supervision.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Lance crows, and waves his hand in Kolivan’s face, before he plucks the tablet out of Kolivan’s hand and throws it aside. He swirls and walks towards the control panel. “I hope you’ve been asking the important questions, samurai Kolivan, because this has been officially stopped by Sir Lancelot!”

“Says who?” Kolivan asks as he scowls, stalking Lance.

“A certain blonde princess with a thing for pink,” Lance answers.

“Should you be touching that?” Kolivan protests.

“Hush, I’m so good at Altean I should be a diplomat on Earth or something.” Lance whoops when the sleep pod hisses, and starts to open. “Sorry, Big Bad, this guy is now an official ally of Voltron. Besides his sister will wake up in like 30 minutes, and it’s the scary one.”

The latter argument wins Kolivan over, and he goes to stand with the two other members of Marmora. Lotor opens his eyes, slit pupils unfocused, and stumbles out. Lance is quick to support him.

“Nice to see you on your feet, Handsome.”

Lotor looks down at Lance in surprise, and seems to be in a daze as he stares at Lance in confusion. Finally he blinks with recognition, and he smiles. “Lance.”

\----

Of course, what Lance said about Narti is actually a lie. Narti is waking up in two hours, and Lance made sure to stock Lotor’s room with food, water, hygiene products (… including condoms and lube) and lots of pillows, before fetching him from the sleep champ.

“That is a lot of pillows,” Lotor comments. Once Lance found out that the beds could be moved, widened and lifted (after all, they were meant for all sorts of being), he had forced Keith to show him and right now, he’s glad he had. He doesn’t think about it a lot, but Lotor is a giant, taller than even Shiro, and Shiro is pretty tall.

Lance smiles at him and throws himself on the bed, wrapping his arms behind his head. “You need something soft right now, I bet,” he says and his smile fades. He gestures Lotor closer. “Come here. Narti isn’t waking up before two vargas.”

This makes Lotor sigh and he walks over to the bed and lies down, an arms width away from Lance though.

Lance meets the Galra-Altean’s eyes. “Can I hug you?”

“Why would you need to?” Lotor drawls. “Nothing has changed. I’m the same as before.”

Lance stares at him. “Dude, you just had to relive some horrible stuff and also broadcast them to us, so just accept the hug already.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lotor coldly dismisses.

And Lance probably doesn’t, but he knows when someone is having a hard time at least, so he just wordlessly makes grabby hands at Lotor. With a sigh, like Lotor is only indulging Lance, the Galra-Altean comes closer and carefully arranges himself on his stomach. Lance arranges himself so Lotor’s face is close to Lance’s neck, and puts an arm around his shoulders. Silently, Lance strokes Lotor’s hair, and the Galra-Altean sighs. Gradually he relaxes.

They lie there for a while. Lance’s learned how to pleasure Lotor, how to make him smile, but never learned how to comfort him. He doesn’t know what to say to make things better. And so he says nothing all.

“Do your trick,” Lotor whispers in the dim light. His voice shakes a tiny fraction. He sounds almost… hurt.

And Lance couldn’t possibly have known what that had meant before, but after having seen Lotor’s memories, his true feelings on the matter? For once, Lance doesn’t hesitate to give.

He softly presses his lips against Lotor’s forehead.

“They’ll kill me when they find me,” Lotor mummers, an almost inconspicuous tone of frantic in his voice. “They’ll kill me, and they’ll kill my sisters.”

The Galra-Altean’s forehead is slightly sweaty underneath Lance’s lips. Lance considers the words for a while, before he kisses Lotor’s temple. “I won’t let them,” he promises.

Lotor exhales shakily, and strokes a hand down Lance’s back. He clears his throat, visibly raising his walls again. “Your skin and your eyes look different from your peers’. You all look different from each other.”

It wouldn’t be wrong to answer honestly, right? Lotor had showed his past, and it was only fair for Lance to give up at least a little information too, especially because most of it is unimportant. Besides, it seems like Lotor needs to change the subject, and Lance is happy to oblige.

“We look different because we come from different parts of my planet,” he explains, and before Lotor can ask, he adds: “I come from an island, and grew up in a small town at the coastline. Hunk grew up by the sea as well.”

“What is the sea?” Lotor asks, and for a moment Lance is flabbergasted. But it makes sense. Most planets Lance has been on aren’t mostly covered with water. Actually, only the mermaids’ planet had been majorly sea.

“Large bodies of water, tasting like salt,” Lance eventually answers. “Where the very beginning of my planet’s life took place.”

Lotor presents a small, almost private smile. “Is that how you know how to swim?”

“Yeah,” Lance says. “Travellers come to my island just to enjoy our starlight and water. Me, I was always athletic. Mama wanted me to do it professionally. Make my island proud, you know?” Lotor looks up at Lance as he pauses, and Lance tries to figure out whether this actually interests Lotor or not. Either way it’s distracting the guy, and so Lance continues: “So I competed for most of my childhood, and my trainer could see me making it to the Olympics. But I didn’t want that. I wanted to see what was beyond my planet. Didn’t expect it to come true this way though.”

“How did you expect it to happen?”

Lance grins. “Well, my parents started by getting me enlisted as a candidate for a space travel program when I was 13 years old. When I was accepted as a candidate, I went to prep school for the next two years to speak better English. When I was 15, I was accepted as a student and I had to move to Texas to start basics. And Texas? Besides the cities, it’s vast and desolate. There was, like, desert everywhere, and the heat? Oh man. And there was no wind whatsoever! You know what, that actually explains a thing or two about Keith…”

And like that he goes on and on and talks about the most blatant yet significant things, from the necklace his twin sister made him in second grade and he wore up until seventh grade where it broke (he cried every night for a week) to a figurine of a mermaid his grandmother owned and had been acting very secretive about. He’s careful to not mention his teammates or the Lions, and sticks strictly to his past on Earth.

Finally it seems like Lotor has fallen asleep, and Lance exhales deeply, throat dry from talking so much.

“Why did you stop?”

Lotor’s voice surprises Lance enough to make him jerk. “Thought you fell asleep.”

“I was listening.” He sounds smug.

Lance doesn’t know why. Then it clicks. “Oh my god, are you collecting Intel?” Lance exclaims.

“You never know when you might need it,” he huffs and Lance tugs his hair. Lotor smiles it. A warm feeling fills Lance’s gut. He kisses Lotor on the forehead.

Lotor’s smile grows, and he twists in Lance’s grasp to kiss Lance properly. The kiss is as wanting as loving, and the passion reminds Lance of the memories he watched. He wonders if Lotor is feeling a rush right now, if color is seeping into his world.

Lotor pulls away, and meets Lance’s eyes. “Something is on your mind.”

Lance sighs. “I’m… “ He doesn’t want to make this about him. But something about the memories bothered him, and he feels like it’s better to say it outright than let it spawn. “Do you regret me?”

Lotor looks up at him, face tight. Lance tries to tell himself that he doesn’t fear the answer. But insecurity surges (as always), and before Lotor can answer, Lance blurts: “I mean, I, I know you probably do. I mean, things would be easier if we weren’t… It’s just that the Lance in your vision, he… You know what, it doesn’t matter.”

He pushes up to sit on the bedside, his heart beating quickly and his palms sweaty. He knows he’s asking. He’s tried not to, at least not directly, but … he needs to know. Lance would fight for Lotor, but… is Lance just a drug to Lotor, something that makes him feel high but never happy and safe?

“You asked me whether I was going to end Voltron,” Lotor lowly says behind him. “Never any other question. Remember that before you doubt me.”

Lotor closes his arms around Lance’s waist, and Lance bows his head and kisses Lotor’s hand.

“I can’t end Voltron, because you’re part of it,” Lotor quietly continues. “Ending Voltron is not of small importance. Voltron has the means to end this war, end me. Allowing it to continue limits my options. I might be safe for now, but if the day comes that Voltron has saved the universe, you will come for my crown next. I resent that.”

Lance swallows, but nods. It is true after all. Lance just hates the fact that because of Voltron, Lotor has reason to feel afraid.

“I might be angry about the position you’ve put me in,” Lotor continues, even lower. “But don’t ever doubt the purity of my feelings for you.”

Lance nods shakily and turns around. “Thank you,” he whispers, and meets Lotor’s eyes. “I know it’s hard for you to talk about.“

“It is,” Lotor confirms, and nudges Lance’s face until they have eye contact. “Do you want to hear a secret?”

Lance straightens up. “What?”

“I don’t regret you anyway,” Lotor whispers and they kiss again, but this time Lance feels content, hopeful even. It’s been a long time since Lance felt hopeful when he kissed Lotor.

Lotor is shaking, and Lance turns around to wrap his arms around him, careful to not press too hard. Their lips are wet and soft, and Lance needs to be closer, craves to feel Lotor’s cold skin. As Lance’s skin continues to grow hotter, Lotor ends up withdrawing, making Lance sigh. He picks at Lance’s shirt, and Lance helps by lifting his arms, and moves to remove Lotor’s shirt as well, before startling.

Lotor’s chest bears glowing, boomerang-shaped marks, the color the same as the ones on his cheeks. Lance never saw Allura or Coran without their shirts, so he doesn’t know if it’s an Altean thing for sure, but it must be. His collarbones seem a little more prominent, the lines of his chest are more pronounced and his skin has a dull, shiny finish, almost like velvet.

It’s embarrassing, but Lance’s cock is already getting ready for action. Trying to not seem so eager, Lance leans forwards to press his lips onto Lotor’s shoulder, before sliding them down to Lotor’s collarbone. He nips gently and Lotor’s hand cup Lance’s ass- Feeling encouraged, Lance slides down further.

“You know, you shouldn’t be doing too much physical activity,” Lance informs into Lotor’s skin.

“You’re right,” Lotor easily agrees. “I should let you do all the work.”

Lance grins. “You’re full of great ideas today, Handsome.”

He puts his hand on Lotor’s crotch, and squeezes.

For the second time Lance is surprised. Either Lotor stuffed his pants, or…

He looks up and meets Lotor’s eyes. “Handsome.”

Lotor’s eyes are smiling, but his lips don’t follow. They’re having a silent staring contest for a minute, before Lance finally sighs and asks: “Did you shift your dick bigger?”

“Are you sure it has become bigger?” Lotor smiles.

“I’m pretty familiar with your dick, Handsome.”

“Oh, I don’t think you are,” Lotor teases, but there’s a sincere note in it. “I think you should examine it further.”

Lance stares incredulously him. Is Lotor saying what Lance thinks he’s saying…?

Curious to find out, Lance unbuttons Lotor’s pants and unzips him. Lotor bites his lip, before lying down and lifting his hips. Lance pulls off his pants and underwear and God Damn.

Now the dick Lance is used to is proportionate to Lotor’s body, and that meant it was bigger than most dicks’. It was just as big as Shiro’s (Yas, Lance peaked, sue him), and Shiro is fairly big compared to his body size.

Now, Lotor’s dick is big. Like, porn big. Which is honestly a little intimidating in real life. Lotor’s old dick (RIP) had been 7, maybe 8 inches. This one had to be at least 9, maybe even 10. And it’s thick. Lance probably couldn’t fit his hand around it.

And it’s darker. Violet, where the rest of his body is lilac. What unsettles Lance the most, however, are probably the large, black spores around the girth of it. They’re the size of peas cut in half and there’re about 9 of them.

Tilting his head, Lance isn’t quite sure how to feel. “Uh. So this is your real… dick?” He looks up at Lotor, who nods. Lance doesn’t really know what to say, and Lotor rolls his eyes. The dick starts to shrink and the spores start to fade, and without thinking Lance grabs the other’s dick, yanking _like a fucking idiot_. “Wait!”

Lotor pouts petulantly. Nervously, Lance giggles, and presses his forehead into Lotor’s stomach. “You can’t just present your monster dick like that and expect me to just…” Lance makes a vague hand gesture. “Have you seriously been faking your dick size all this time?”

“My original … member can be a little intimidating for people who aren’t Galra,” Lotor says. “Afterwards it was simply difficult to …”

“Yeah, I get you.” Lance sits up to Lotor’s lips to make sure Lotor knows Lance is okay with this, before he experimentally wraps his hand around the cock. Like he suspected, his index finger and thumb can barely reach around it, and he swallows dryly. The thought of… actually letting Lotor fuck him is compelling, yet too risky, both because of Lotor’s injured state and because Coran doesn’t have a healing pod at the ready.

Lance slides down Lotor’s body, stroking the other’s stomach in gentle circles. Lotor is trying not to show it, but he’s nervous.

“What happens if I touch these?” Lance asks and touches one of the spores.

Lotor’s chest quickly rises as he inhales harshly. “Do it again, and find out.”

Lance rubs it with the tip of his finger. It feels soft like skin and is wet with precum. It almost… squirms before it starts to sweat something transparent and oily-looking. Lance inhales deeply, before wrapping his lips around Lotor’s head. Immediately he feels the stretch in the corners of his mouth, and he frowns as he pushes himself down. He wraps both of his hands around the root, and still, it’s a challenge to push down far enough to touch his own hand.

But Lotor’s moans are as sweet as cotton candy, his hips shaking just to not thrust. Lance gets to work with his hands, squeezing and twisting and stroking as he sucks and licks at the head. The spores are moving underneath his fingers, and the taste in his mouth is strong, salty and nutty. Lotor groans and starts to jerk his hips, and Lance lets him, careful of not letting his lover thrust too much. When he starts to feel like he’s going to gag, he pulls back and teasingly swirls his tongue around the head of Lotor’s cock. Lotor keens and grabs Lance by the hair, shakes him a little roughly, and Lance submits to his control, meeting Lotor’s eyes as he opens his mouth. Lotor pushes in, and closes his eyes with a moan. Sensing that Lotor’s climax is near, Lance strokes him even harder.

He needs Lotor to come, and he lifts his hand to fondle Lotor’s balls, relishing in the broken whimper than comes out of Lotor’s mouth. Lance tries to swallow Lotor as deep as he can and feels tears water his eyes, when he feels something wet on Lotor’s inner thigh. With his fingers he seeks out the source, and finds that there is indeed a slick trickle sliding down Lotor’s thigh. The third surprise is more pleasant: The slickness is coming from his lover’s asshole.

Lance groans, turned on as hell, and he rubs at Lotor’s hole. It flutters underneath his fingers and Lotor offers another broken whimper. Making up his mind, Lance pushing in two fingers in without asking. Lotor cries out, but not in a bad way, and Lance can feel it from the inside when he comes. His hole abruptly tightens around Lance’s fingers and the spores underneath Lance’s other hand grow bigger and releases more ooze. Spurts of come lands on the back of Lance’s tongue, and he hungrily swallows it down.

Seemingly without any concerns for his injures, Lotor growls as soon as he is done shaking and rolls Lance onto his back, quickly putting himself on top. He rips down Lance’s pants, and drapes himself over Lance, kissing him hungrily and deeply as he starts to jerk Lance off. Lance pumps his hips with Lotor’s fist, and Lotor bites Lance in the lip, hard, before his hand come to grab Lance around the neck. It makes Lance almost come immediately, but Lotor works him up to an even higher state where the pleasure is red hot and only escalating. Lance’s knees shake and the world narrows down to Lotor’s hands.

When Lance comes it’s almost violent. His whole body tenses and starts to jerk, his thighs sweating and trembling. Lotor makes sure to kiss him through it. Lance’s breathing comes back to him rather abruptly, and feels like breathing in the coldest winter. His hands shake, trying to reach out for Lotor. He feels like he has come undone and his body didn’t probably reassemble itself.

Lotor’s arms are tight around him, his teeth digging into the skin of Lance’s neck. The pain is grounding, even almost calming, and Lance keeps nodding, even though Lotor hasn’t said anything to him.

Lotor whispers: "Words can't explain how you make me feel. But if they were there? Know that I would mean them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: [MORE GORGEOUS ART MADE BY PLAGALKEY](http://plagalkey.tumblr.com/post/165892282420/i-adore-you-you-know-that-inspired-by) (IT'S SO GORGEOUS)


	13. Plum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Excessive talk about genitalia and reproduction, mention of ableism. 
> 
> Long AF chapter, next chapter is gonna be short AF. enjoy the fluff while you can~
> 
> [Sultry AF fanart by Voltron-Honey! (NSFW)](http://voltron-honey.tumblr.com/post/167954047016/lancelot-inspired-by-the-fic-hymnless-made-by)
> 
> !!! (Thank you!!)

After having cleaned up, they quickly grab something to eat. Thankfully the kitchen is empty, so nobody hears Lotor’s passive-aggressive complaints about the food. They go to the healing champers, where Lotor waits for Narti to stumble out.

While Coran cleans the healing pod, Lotor gives her very harsh orders to behave properly (which meant no stealing, sabotaging, torturing, beating, killing, etc.) while he heals. Once Lotor has been placed in a healing pod, Lance shows her her room, where she immediately locks herself inside.

Which is great because Lance doesn’t really know what to do with Narti. The lack of something physical to do leaves him too much time to think about Lotor’s cock, though.

He’s been trying not to think about it, has tried to be cool, to think about it later, but honestly Lance is _freaking the fuck out_. As a space traveller, Lance always has to stay open-minded – which usually isn’t too hard, Lotor is _purple_ for goodness’ sake – but. But. One thing are the spores. Another is the self-lubricating asshole. Lance can deal with that change.

But Lotor’s cock is 10 inches long, and Lance _prefers his guts inside his body_ _thank you very much_. He’d call himself a size queen to anyone who asked, but when it comes down to it, Lance isn’t picky. Actually, he prefers a medium-sized cock, what can he say, he’s a simple guy. It already feels like Lotor is bursting him open enough as it is, he doesn’t need an added two inches of cock –

“Lance, are you listening?” Allura’s voice suddenly snaps.

“Cock?” Lance intelligently blurts.

Pidge snorts out their water, as Lance smacks his mouth with his hand, feeling his face go all red. Hunk giggles behind his hand, Keith rolls his eyes, Shiro is rubbing his temples, and Allura looks like she’s actually about to laugh?

“What the Hell, Lance?” Keith asks. “Have you been thinking about dick this whole time?”

Pidge guffaws. Lance hides his face in his hands.

“Lance, please focus,” Shiro very sternly says. “This is serious.”

“I know,” Lance replies, even though he doesn’t because he hasn’t been listening, because he’s been too busy thinking about Lotor’s cock.

“What made you think about…?” Hunk asks, gesturing with his hand at the end of the sentence.

Happy to vent about his very serious problem, Lance puts his hands on Pidge’s ears and whispers: “10 inches, Hunk. He’s been transforming his dick this whole time.”

“I’m fifteen!” Pidge says and wriggles.

“To make it bigger?” Keith curiously asks.

“No, to make it smaller!” Lance exclaims and Pidge shouts, “EEEEW” and smacks their hands on top of Lance’s.

Allura nods very seriously. “Galra are known for being a very … equipped species. It doesn’t surprise me that he might’ve hid it during his sexual explorations.”

Alright, that sounds _freaking weird_ coming from Allura. Hunk puts his hand on Lance’s shoulder and solemnly says: “It was nice to know you.”

Lance dramatically cries into his hands.

“Can’t you just ask him to keep it shifted smaller?” Shiro asks, frowning.

Lance sighs. “I know he wouldn’t mind, but like… I just feel bad? I mean, technically I could take 10 inches, it’s just that…” Slumping his shoulders, he looks at Shiro. “Have somebody ever complained about your dick?”

Immediately Shiro’s face reddens. “That’s private, Lance,” he snaps.

“Alright, sorry, sorry,” Lance says, lifting his hands. “I just thought you might be experienced with – “

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Shiro interrupts, covering his eyes with his hands

Allura is smirking a little bit. “Are you embarrassed?” Shiro doesn’t dignify that with an answer, but she puts her hand on Shiro’s hand, meets his eyes through his fingers and very sincerely says: “You should be proud of your …”

“Package,” Lance whispers.

“Package,” Allura says, and Hunk and Keith break out laughing. She gives them a confused look.

“Look, I’m just going to pretend this conversation never took place and never shower with any of you again,” Shiro says. “Look, Lance, don’t feel pressured to accept his… original state. If he’s been shifting all this time because he knew it might be intimidating, he will understand.”

“You think?” Lance asks, straightening.

“Sure,” Shiro says and Lance actually believes him. Despite how Lotor could be disrespectful and entitled, he usually listened once Lance talked to him about it, and corrected his behavior. Lance has always thought he did it begrudgingly, just to continue their relationship without further bumps, but after having seen the memories, Lance realizes that maybe no one ever taught Lotor how to be a good person, and this is simply all new to him.

“Yeah, and if you really want to show you accept him, there’s plenty of stuff you can do without anal,” Hunk bids in a reassuring voice.

“You’re right,” Lance says and immediately feels relieved. “I mean, I could just suck him – “

“And that marks the ending of this conversation,” Shiro interrupts, and Lance lets go of Pidge’s ears. “As I was saying, Lance, we need to figure out what to do with Lotor’s colony. Zarkon probably already knows we were here, and whether we stay or leave, it’d leave the planet vulnerable.”

“Why would Zarkon attack a planet that’s technically his, though?” Keith asks. “Lotor hasn’t been denounced yet, has he?”

“Well, Zarkon must’ve figured out that Lotor has left this planet to thrive for a reason,” Allura says. “He could still attack it, simply to make an example.”

“Lotor was supposed to hold the meeting with the colonists, because they didn’t want to give up how they reign their colonies, right?” Hunk asks. “Maybe this was just him sending a message. Considering how many planets are in his control, why would he care about this one?”

“I think there’s something to what Allura is saying,” Pidge says. “Kolivan left me data before he left, and apparently the majority of Lotor’s men and the production of his space vehicles happen here,” Pidge says. “It might be a question of resources.”

“Still, staying here might mean that we’d leave civilians in the crossfire,” Hunk says.

“But they’re known for being feisty, right?” Lance asks. “The locals fought the Galra for centuries, before agreeing on a trade. I mean, that’s why Lotor’s resources are being produced here. And the day Lumen burned, they fought to get inside despite it being, you know, useless. I’m just saying, whether we stay or go, they’re better at defending themselves than other planets we’ve dealt with.”

“I don’t believe Zarkon will strike again. After all, we caught off a lot of his resources and power while he healed,” Allura adds. “Besides that, it’s fair to presume that Zarkon thinks we’ve already left and attacking again would bear no point.”

“Zarkon probably already knows that we’re communicating with Lotor though,” Keith says. “He knows Lance and Lotor has had a connection, and probably doesn’t believe that we’re here, on Lotor’s planet, is a coincidence. The pictures, remember?”

They continue to discuss their options until they eventually grow hungry. They still haven’t come to an agreement after having eaten, and they agree to wait for Kolivan and Lotor to hear their input, and part ways.

Thinking that Narti must be hungry by now, Lance carries a tray of food to her quarters. He knocks. “Narti?” he calls out. “It’s Lance. I brought food?”

No reply.

“Look, you don’t like me,” Lance says. “But let’s just cooperate until Lotor pops out of the pod, yeah? It’s not good for you to stay inside your room all day.” When she still doesn’t answer, he continues: ”It’s because of your cat isn’t it? You know on my planet there’s this superhero called Daredevil, and he was a badass without vision, like you. Let me tell ya, I never thought super senses were cool until that scene in the ’03 movie, where the rain drops fall onto Elektra’s – “

The doors slide open. Narti holds out her hands and hesitantly Lance puts the tray on her palms. Immediately she turns, and the doors close behind her.

“Oh come on, I think we should take advantage of this time together to befriend each other!” Lance whines. “I mean, come on, how often is it that you meet someone as cute as me? And how often is it that I meet a real life Daredevil? Where I come from, we celebrate differences! Besides, I’m kinda dating your brother, and in this Castle, we weigh bonding very heavily - “

The doors slide open again, and once again Narti is standing in front of him. Lance is trying to guess whether she’s metaphorically glaring at him, because it sure feels like it. He smiles nervously at her, and sends her some finger guns when she doesn’t react.

“You wanna go to the pool?” Lance asks. “Oh right, you can’t swim. Do you want to see me swim? Or we can just chill there?”

She nods, but Lance suspects she just wants him to stop talking. Sadly for her, Lance talks when he’s nervous or if it’s awkward, and right now it’s both, so he talks the whole way to the pool about things he doesn’t even remember once he’s said it. Once they get to the pool, Narti settles on the poolside and wraps her arms and tail around her knees. She’s actually sort of cute like this, almost like she can’t kill you in your sleep and she’s actually a really chill reptile. Maybe it was really the cat that had been freaking Lance out.

“You’re not going to drown me, right?” Lance asks as he pulls off his shirt.

She shakes her head, and Lance almost feels nervous as he pulls off his pants as well. Logically he knows Narti can’t swim, but if she really wanted she could find a way. He strikes a dramatic pose to fake confidence, before remembering that she can’t see it anyway. With a sigh, he runs and jumps. The water is cool and tastes like mint rather than chlorine. He lets his body drop to the bottom until gravity lets up and the water pulls him back to the surface.

Once there, he gets the feeling that Narti is watching him, simply because she seems tense, so he dives under again and sets to reaching the bottom. The further he dives, the tighter the pressure in his ears become, but he’s used to ignoring it. He learned how to shrink his pupils when he first started swimming, so the world down there is clear and he can clearly see the Altean signs that glow on the pool floor. He recognizes them easily by now, even understands a few of them.

There’s a splash at the surface, and Lance looks up. The tip of Narti’s tail is in the water, wiggling around in an almost unsure way. Concerned, he quickly swims to the surface, and rubs his eyes while gasping once he gets there.

She’s moved away from the water, her tail thrashing from side to side in an almost irritated manner. Like a cat.

“Are you alright?” Lance asks.

She doesn’t reply (of course), only slaps the water with her tail and feeling even more unsettled, he swims to the edge of the pool to reach her. Immediately her tail wraps around his waist and easily pulls him up from the water, which ugh, brings up some bad memories.

“Hey!” Lance protests, and she immediately puts him down besides her. “What was that for?”

She turns her face away from him, and once again slaps the water with her tail.

“You don’t want me to be in the water?” Lance guesses.

She nods, and makes a gesture with her hand.

“Because it’s deep?” Lance guesses, and she shakes her head in frustration. “Because I can drown?” Lance asks.

She nods. She makes another gesture, imitating long hair, and Lance narrows his eyes. “Your brother?” he asks.

She nods again, and points to her chest. “You? No? Girl? No? Galra? Okay, Galra. And …”

She makes a stabbing gesture with a narrowed hand at her chest.

“Lance?” he tries. “No, okay, uh, shoot? Stab? Kill? Alright, kill. Who? Wait, me?”

She nods and does the sign for Lotor again, before pointing at Lance. “Because I’m with your brother? Okay… Galra? No. You?”

She points at Lance again, and makes a shield around her head with her hands and tail. “You have to protect me? Lotor told you that you had to protect me?” he asks.

Satisfied, she curls her hands around her ankles and nods a final time.

“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” Lance says. “Does sign language exist among the Galra?”

She crooks her head in question.

“Uh, on my planet we have something called sign language. It’s when we don’t speak with our vocal chords, but communicate through making gestures with our hands and combining them. I think it’s mostly disabled people who talk it fluently? Uh, like, people who have difficulties hearing with their ears or can’t hear at all. Well, it’s not _only_ disabled people who speak it, it can also be relatives of these people or teachers or… Yeah, my neighbor’s cousin is deaf and uses sign language, and her parents speak sign language too.”

The tip of Narti’s tail bends towards him.

“You don’t have that among the Galra?” Lance asks.

Narti shakes her head, and reaches out to touch Lance’s ear. Her finger is cold and clawed, but the touch in itself is gentle. She makes a closing motion with both of her hands after having touched his ear.

“Uh…. Deaf people?” Lance guesses, and Narti nods before making the sign for kill again. Lance grimaces. “I guess Zarkon doesn’t want disabled people in his army.”

She nods, and makes the sign for Lotor, before holding up three fingers and pointing at herself.

“You are three?” Lance guesses and she smacks her tail on the floor, which Lance assumes is a _no_. “Okay, okay, relax… uhm, three what? Galra? Three Galra and Lotor… Oh, your sisters! The five of you made up your language?” he asks, and she nods.

“That’s nice to hear,” Lance says, distantly noticing he’s starting to freeze. “Alright, teach me your language! How do I say ‘bed’?”

\----

After having taken a warm shower in his room (with Narti waiting on his bed, but hey, she can’t see anything anyway), they go back to the infirmary. Acxa should be getting in a minute, and Lotor would probably join them in an hour or two.

This time, Lance has food and water ready, and Narti goes to the healing pod to catch Acxa as she falls out. As they communicate with words and gestures, Lance looks at Lotor and his thoughts fall back to Lotor’s monster cock, and he feels like groaning.

“We’re going to sleep until Lotor has finished healing,” Acxa says to Lance, all uptight and formal, and Lance shrugs and leads them to their rooms, where they lock themselves in. Worried, he goes back to the healing pods.

Lotor is looking peaceful, his hair a little flat, and the dark circles a little prominent, but he’s relaxed. Healing.

Ezor is somehow looking worse than before, thin and pale. He knows she had suffered mainly internal damage and a pretty tough head injury. Even Coran couldn’t assure that she’d come out the same.

Zethrid, however, is looking better. Her only injury had been the severe skin burns, and though she’s covered in scabs, Coran assured that they’d fall off eventually and her fur will have grown back out once she got out.

“Where are our guests?” Coran voice asks behind him, and Lance jumps.

“They’re sleeping until Lotor gets out in one varga,” Lance informs. “Pretty sure they’re debriefing, but Acxa knows she has to behave until Lotor comes out.”

Coran nods, and goes to check on the other healing pods. “I was told by Allura that Lotor’s original form is giving you the heebie-jeebies,” Coran hums.

Lance straightens. “I am not getting the heebie-jeebies! It’s just…” He makes circles at his own crotch area.

Coran lifts his brows. “Are you referring to…” He clears his throat and blushes. “Uh, his … uh…”

“Cock?”

Coran jumps, and hurriedly looks away. “You earthlings sure have no reservations!”

“I do!” Lance exclaims. “But my butthole is not that big!”

Coran covers his face with his hands. “Sweet mother of stars.”

“And his butthole is lubricated!” Lance adds. “No one had the talk with me, okay, Earth’s sex ed failed me, how – “

Red as a beetroot, Coran sits down besides Lance, slightly slumped. “Alright, listen, Lance, I can’t say much about his… Galra attributes, but I can tell you a thing or two about the … uh… “

“Butthole?”

Again, Coran flinches. “On Altea, uh, we … we’re shape shifters, as you have already noticed, and we don’t have a… sex- or gender binary… Which means that…”

“Means what?” Lance eagerly asks.

Coran sighs. “Unlike humans, Alteans – no matter what sex - are able to support life, as well as give it. Female-sexed Alteans are usually better at supporting life because of their fully developed mammary gland though.”

“Wait,” Lance says. “Are you saying that… technically, you could become pregnant?”

“Technically,” Coran says, swirling his moustache while looking away. “That Lotor…. self-lubricates might be a sign that he’s able to bear children, but I can’t say for sure whether that means he has a uterus.”

“Oh my god,” Lance says, blushing now as well and pressing his face into his knees. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, it’s not like he minds, but this might explain why Lotor refuses to bottom. Lance isn’t ruling out that Lotor prefers to top because he likes dominating, but this might explain his apprehension a little bit. “But could he… you know, become pregnant with me?” Lance asks.

“Now, now, now, don’t you think that’s a little too early, my boy? With the war and Lions and – ”

“No, I’m not going to…! I’m not thinking about…!” He interrupts, before shaking his head. “I just need to know about the risk?”

Looking a little calmer, Coran shrugs. “I can’t answer you with certainty. Galra are a subliminal species, in that they are able to produce offspring with all species we last knew off. But whether the offspring is able to produce children is a guessing game. Many are infertile, some can, but only with one or both of the species they originate from. Only a few inherit the Galra ability to produce offspring with other species. But whether a healthy child can become with a genetic makeup so varied is always a guessing game.”

Lance digests the information in silence. So… Lotor could possibly get pregnant, but had a moderate risk of miscarrying? Or birthing children that were too unhealthy to live long?

“But do not let it take up too much space in your mind!” Coran reassures and pats Lance’s hand. “It’s far too soon to think about that. I would, however, recommend being cautious though, and using the prevention that Shiro provided you.”

Lance nods very seriously. “Thank you for talking with me about it, Coran.”

Coran blushes again, and sighs. “Any time, my boy. You can always consult me with your concerns, but you can also, uh, ask Allura!”

Receiving the message just fine, Lance retreats. He goes to check up on the sisters, but they ignore him until he eventually leaves. He prepares more food, before going to knock on their door again.

“Lotor is getting out in couple of doboshes,” Lance announces, and he hears rustling inside, before the doors slide open. Acxa and Narti have changed their clothes to … traditional Altean suits? They’re both wearing the white traditional under armors, and on top Acxa is wearing a powder blue norman tunic with silver details, fastened with s black belt. It’s a style Lance recalls seeing Alfor wear in a picture. Narti is wearing something similar, but it looks more like a short-legged jumpsuit, and it’s plum with pink details, and is tight around her chest.

“I love the new look,” Lance comments. “Here’s some food if you want to eat something on the way.” He hands them two bowls, which they reluctantly take from him. Lance carries the rest of the goo back to the healing chamber.

Unfortunately for Lance, Lotor has already woken up, and is stretching out his body as Coran sets to cleaning the healing pod in silence. Narti and Acxa silently walk up to his side, and Lotor says something to them, touches Narti’s arm briefly, before pointing at the other healing pods where Zethrid and Ezor are still sleeping while talking quietly.

Lance goes to help Coran clean while they talk, and he’s chatting with Coran about the Altean’s project (new healing pods), when he hears someone clear their throat behind him. Coran looks up, and Lance looks over his shoulder.

Narti and Acxa are gone, leaving Lotor behind. Grinning, Lance walks into the Galra-Altean’s arms, and they close around him tightly. Almost tenderly, Lotor rests his cheek into Lance’s hair. Lance leans in too, and inhales Lotor’s scent. There’s the cool smell of healing pod, but behind that the scent is of Lotor is familiar: minty resin, the decaying foliage and the sweet scent of rosy wood.

“How are you feeling?” Lance asks, stroking a hand down Lotor’s back.

“Better,” Lotor rumbles. He lets go and looks at Coran. “Thank you for your medical aid, was it… Master Coran?”

Is this how a girl feels when her boyfriend charms the shit out of her parents? It sure feels like it. Coran puffs up in pride, and Lotor smiles politely in return.

“Indeed it is!” Coran confirms. “It was no problem, lad, anytime.”

Lotor nods, and Lance smiles at Coran, before they both leave.

\----

The negotiations last a long time, and Lance is not allowed to participate, which is totally unfair. At least Keith hadn’t been invited either, though the guy had looked happy about it. Apparently, Shiro, Lotor, Allura and Kolivan had all come to the agreement that Voltron should leave in the morning, but Allura offered Lotor and his sisters to stay until they were ready, which knowing Lotor wouldn't be in too long. 

Lotor tells him this while in the shower, and Lance decides to let it all go for once and just relax.

“Your sisters are really nice,” Lance says, as Lotor brushes his hair. His hair is grey when wet, and he brushes it softly from tip to root. “Also your cock is really big and I’m scared.”

The brush still, and Lotor turns to look at Lance. “I already told you that we don’t have to.”

“Uh, no, you passive-aggressively shrunk your dick,” Lance corrects. Lotor pouts, and Lance sighs. “Alright, I’m sorry, that attitude was unwarranted.”

Lotor keeps pouting, but turns his head and continues brushing his hair.

“You know, Coran explained me a thing or two about, uh… Altean anatomy,” Lance keeps going, and secretly curses that Lotor can’t just say all of this himself, so it won’t be so awkward.

“Is that so?” Lotor says, sounding too nonchalant.

“Come on, work with me here, Handsome,” Lance whines. “You can’t just spring totally new gear at me, and expect me to just catch up.”

“That is exactly what I’m expecting,” Lotor snorts.

“Well, you could’ve least told me that you’re… uh…”

Lotor puts the brush down and narrows his eyes at Lance. “What?”

Lance bites his lip. “Uh.”

“Yeah?”

“Like…” Lance points vaguely at his stomach.

Lotor crooks his head, looking a little confused, but ends up smirking. “Tell you what,” he says. “You tell me a secret, and I’ll tell you what it is you’re asking.”

Lance snorts. “Are you really doing this?”

“It’s only fair, isn’t it?” Lotor asks.

“We’re in a relationship, we should just be honest with each other.”

“Which we are. Telling me a secret is being honest,” Lotor smiles.

Lance throws up his hands, and sits up. “Alright, fine. Is there something in particular you want to know?”

“Do you really like my sisters?”

Lance glares at him, before admitting: “Narti is really cute. I haven’t talked with Acxa at all. Zethrid seems nice, but it’s just hard to put that shit away from me sometimes. I can’t get a clear read of Ezor; she seems too be friendly for it to be genuine.”

Lotor considers his answer for a moment, before nodding in acceptance. He leaves the chair at the mirror, and goes to sit besides Lance. “I am fertile, yes,” Lotor says. “But I don’t believe I can be fertilized with your seed. There’s no reason for concern.”

“I ain’t worried,” Lance says, and puts his head on Lotor’s thigh, leaning in to kiss his stomach. “I would love a football team one day.”

“Football?”

“A sport. Point is I would like to have a big family one day.”

This makes Lotor a little tense and a tiny bit sad, and Lance hurries to sit up, and meet the man’s eyes before moving in to peck him on the lips. “But don’t you worry about that,” Lance says, and kisses Lotor’s jawline, before moving down to nuzzle at Lotor’s neck. “I have another secret if you would like one.”

“Let me hear it,” Lotor says, his fingers gingerly grazing Lance’s scalp.

“I want to do something to you that I’m not sure you would let me,” Lance whispers, sliding his hands underneath Lotor’s rope, pushing it aside to bare skin.

“Yeah?” Lotor asks playfully, voice husky. “Won’t know until you ask.”

“I want to lick you,” Lance says, and climbs unto Lotor’s lap, gently pressing the other’s back down on the mattress. “Down there. I want to taste you.”

Lotor blinks up at him, and he opens his mouth, but eventually closes it and swallows. “You want to what?” he asks.

“Please?” Lance pleads, knowing that Lotor understood him just fine. “I will stop if you don’t like it, but I’m sure you will.”

Lotor swallows again, and Lance makes a trail of kisses down Lotor’s neck to his chest until he reaches Lotor’s cock. It’s big in his hand, and he quickly starts using both as he strokes. Lotor blinks down at him, lower lip between his teeth. He chews on it, and Lance licks his balls, feeling them tighten underneath his tongue. A sweet scent eventually fills his nose, and Lance looks up, his heart beating hard in his chest.

“Can I?” he whispers, and Lotor nods once, and Lance moves lower.

He hasn’t actually seen Lotor’s asshole this close before. It’s plum like his lips, and oddly hairless, glistening with juice. Lance licks his lips, and laps tentatively at him. The Galra-Alteans dick jerks in Lance’s hands, and seeing it as a green light, he licks a little firmer. Lotor burns on his tongue, kinda like spirits, and a little bitter too. It feels like everything is starting to pass really quickly as Lance massages his hands around the root and head of Lotor’s cock as his tongue explores.

Lotor isn’t making sounds, only small choked off gasps, his thighs tense around Lance head, and just as much as Lance feels aroused, he feels honored. Lotor is obviously letting him do something he hasn’t let anyone else do, and Lance wants to keep him so badly that he feels like an angry child stomping in the ground at the universe, which had decided that they were never meant to be like some sort of asshole. But underneath that, there’s something gentle, something intimate, that’s only for the two of them.

Oh god, this is not enough. Lance needs to be let in so badly.

He plunges his tongue inside, and Lotor shouts while throwing his head back, and comes in thick stripes on Lance’s hands and his own abs, thighs tightening around Lance’s head. Lance closes his eyes, and he swears he can feel Lotor in his lungs, feel him in Lance’s color, like ink on a wet page, swirling, flowing and spreading in blue.


	14. Love on top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I mean, none of us are sick,” Lance says. “And as long as I don’t do any penetrating, he won’t get pregnant.”
> 
> “What?” Shiro exclaims and Lance takes advantage and tackles Shiro. The other man falls, before rolling and they wrestle back and forth until Shiro has eventually gotten Lance into a body lock.
> 
> Lance breathes heavily into the floor, feeling Shiro’s weight on his back and his wrists gathered in Shiro’s hand.
> 
> “What do you mean?” Shiro asks and lets go, getting up. “Can Lotor get pregnant?”
> 
> “Yeah,” Lance says and rolls onto his back, inhaling deeply.
> 
> “What?” Hunk exclaims on the other side of the deck. “Is Lotor pregnant?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh, a little late, but you've all been entertained by S4. Thank you to Nerbull for holding my hand, to Verdi spumante for keeping me sane and to you guys for being such a motherfreaking awesome support! It's been so fun to talk with you guys both here and on tumblr, and I love hearing your thoughts/ideas.

Lotor keeps Lance busy the rest of the night. As dawn starts to slip in through the door crack, Lotor figures out that instead of positioning himself on his fours, he could also just sit on Lance’s face. It’s a position that allows him the domination he prefers and gives him more control and Lance can’t say he isn’t a fan of it.

His hands cup Lotor’s thighs as he thrusts his tongue inside again and again. Lotor is going absolutely crazy for it, riding Lance face like there’s no tomorrow, and Lance suspects that seeing that is the fifth impending orgasm, Lotor might have a lot more erogenous nerves down there than either of them suspected.

Could you overdose on Altean body lubrication? Because Lance’s tongue and lips have gone numb a long time ago, and the taste of it has overwhelmed his taste buds. His jaw and shoulders are sore from Lotor’s weight, and his oily eyelids fall heavy, his own quick breaths dampening his face.

When Lotor finally falls down on the mattress, breathing quickly and dewy with sweat, Lance licks his lips. His lips feel puffed and swollen and his dick, which hasn’t found release since Lotor put his hairbrush away, throbs on his thigh. He’s panting, body twitching and skin sensitive.

“Lotor?” Lance calls out, a little desperate and Lotor pats his thighs.

“Come here,” he says, and immediately Lance rolls on top of him and humps him, and Lotor licks his fingers, before reaching down to stroke his own cock. Lance holds his breath as Lotor pokes and prods at Lance’s ass, before easily pushing in two fingers, and he groans loudly in response, before pushing himself down on them.

Lotor bites his neck in warning, but Lance doesn’t care, just grinds down on them. Lotor’s arm tightens around him, but he lets Lance grind and hump him, until Lance feels so close to completion that his balls are clenching and his breath is stuttering.

“Stop,” Lotor says, grasping Lance by his hip to stop his movements and Lance cries out in pure frustration.

“W-What?” he asks.

“Ask for it,” Lotor commands.

Lance mewls pathetically, his hips twitching. “Please.”

Lotor’s hand moves to his ass cheek, and he clenches it hard, one hand grasping it all easily. “Don’t touch yourself.”

Lance nods, and grinds down on Lotor’s fingers, while the other lazily massages his ass. Lotor feels almost warm underneath Lance, and he focuses on the wetness of their skin rubbing together, on the feeling of Lotor’s fingers inside of him, stubbornly uncurled.

It’s when he starts rubbing his nipples against Lotor that he nears the edge again.

“Stop.”

Lance smashes his fist into mattress. “Lotor!” he snaps.

“Yes?” Lotor asks, nonchalant but a little smug.

“Please, all you have to do is let me,” Lance groans, actually lifting his hips and curving his spine as he slams down. Lotor’s fingers miss his prostate by a millimeter; the asshole must be doing this on _purpose_ -

Lotor grasps Lance’s hip again and forces him still.

“Lotor,” Lance whimpers.

“Lance,” Lotor singsongs back.

Lance smashes his face into Lotor’s chest, feeling tears of frustration well up in his eyes.

“Are you crying?” Lotor asks.

“Fuck you,” Lance replies, and Lotor pulls out his fingers, lazily stroking his own flaccid dick, which has been drenching Lance’s thigh with pre-cum, and pushes his slippery fingers back inside, this time curling his fingers and Lance groans as the fingers hit his spot.

“Please,” Lance begs, and Lotor starts to finger him roughly, pushing at and massaging Lance’s prostate, making Lance’s toes curl. But this time Lance holds back, keeps himself away from the edge to not be disappointed again. Lotor senses it by the way Lance becomes stiff, gasping harshly until it turns into sobs.

“Go,” Lotor whispers, and Lance rubs his junk against Lotor’s thigh as Lotor roughly fucks him with his fingers.

“Stop,” Lotor says and Lance throws himself down on Lotor’s body, sobbing.

Lotor coos at him, kissing his head and stroking his back in circles. “Trust me.”

Lance bites his shoulder, because he’s a child, and Lotor yowls and pulls him off.

“Do you really need to come?” Lotor asks, catching Lance’s eyes.

Lance nods, tears rolling down his cheek and Lotor kisses him quickly, before rolling Lance off him. Lance lands on his stomach with an _uff_ but shivers with anticipation when Lotor lifts his hips up and puts his hand on Lance’s neck, pressing his face into the mattress.

“You know who bites?” Lotor asks.

Lance tries to look over his shoulder, but just ends up blinking slowly at the wall.

“An animal,” Lotor answers and his hand falls down on Lance’s ass cheek.

Lance cries out, jumping initially but the hand on his neck holds him down. A third finger presses inside him, and he whines for it.

“Lotor,” Lance whimpers. “Please. Didn’t I treat you good?”

“You did,” Lotor replies, pressing a kiss into the arch of Lance’s spine and he flinches underneath the gentle touch, feeling like his body is electric, like his skin is rippling with it. “You used your tongue so good for me,” Lotor continues, his voice a husky rumble against Lance’s back, sending down shivers.

“Please,” Lance says.

“Please what?” Lotor asks. “Tell me what it is that you want.”

“I want to come,” Lance says, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence.

“But Lance,” Lotor says, his voice dark, “you know I can’t give that to you just yet.”

Lance sniffs, trying to think up something that would convince. Finally he says: “The alarm could go off anytime, and I would have to leave, a-and we don’t know when I would get back from the mission. You really want to leave me hanging?”

Apparently the answer is yes, but Lance feels something that is very much Lotor’s dick jumping against his thigh.

“Oh my fucking God,” Lance groans, realizing now that this might’ve backfired.

“In that case,” Lotor says, his voice containing a growling note. “You can’t touch yourself until we see each other again.”

“You’re a freaking sadist,” Lance jabs, and Lotor chuckles.

“What made you catch on?” he asks, and his hand falls down on Lance’s other ass cheek.

Lance only gasps sharply this time, his jaw clenching down. Lotor’s fingers, which have been holding still, start to move in him again and Lance melts into the sheets.

“What do you want?” Lotor asks, sounding completely unbothered considering _he already got to come five bloody times._ “Besides coming.”

Lance writhes, thinking hard. The question seems genuine enough, and maybe he actually gets to pick. A blowjob? No, he could get that any day. A rimming job? Nah, he isn’t ready for that.

Maybe...? No, Lotor’s…. But it would work itself out, right? And Lance can just ask Lotor to stop in case it doesn’t. Honestly, Lance feels so desperate right now he’s ready for anything.

Lance wriggles his ass. “Fuck me.”

Lotor hesitates. “You sure? I can shrink.”

“No,” Lance says, surprising himself. “Just… don’t push all of it in.”

The hand on the back of Lance’s neck squeezes for a second, before it lets go. Immediately Lance misses it, feeling like it had grounded him and now he might float away. He turns his head to look at Lotor lubing his cock with his own fucking body lube, and Lance really hopes he isn’t allergic.

Guess he’d find out soon. He blesses Lotor’s weird narrow dickhead, because he pushes in easily. He slides in slowly and Lance can feel him thicken the deeper he gets.

“Stop,” Lance says once it starts feeling like too much.

Lotor reaches down to rub his shoulder. “Too much?”

Lance shakes his head. “No. I might come.”

He can’t see him, but he just knows that the Galra-Altean is smirking when he replies: “So you do like it?”

Lance prefers not to answer that.

“Do you want to come?” Lotor asks.

“Oh, do I suddenly have a say in this?” Lance pipes back, and the slaphes over each of his ass cheeks come unexpected. He groans, and Lotor pulls back until only his head is inside.

Lotor sighs, a theatrical note of disappointment in it. “I keep giving you chances, and you keep taking them for granted…”

He rams forwards, and Lance cries out. It’s only when Lotor gently pushes Lance down on his shoulders again that he realizes that he has sat up.

“I’m sorry,” Lance sighs. “Please, let me come.”

Lotor pulls back and the _texture_ … Lance can feel Lotor’s nubs or clits or whatever is on Lotor’s cock. It feels aggravatingly good, despite how it’s not enough. Lance feels like he can’t breathe, his lungs too small to hold the air he needs, his bones too liquid to move.

Lotor pushes inside hard, and Lance moans. The other hums in delight, starting a steady rhythm, collecting Lance’s elbows in his hands and pushing them together, pulling Lance back so his back arches.

For a while there’re only the sounds of Lance’s moans, and Lotor’s quick breathing. Lance’s shoulders are burning, and his body feels strung up like a bow, shaking with the strain but the way his hair sticks to his face and neck, the way Lotor feels as he pushes in deeper and deeper until their skin is slapping together is so good, Lance barely knows how to handle it.

Lotor hums, and leans forwards, closing his teeth around Lance’s shoulder, and that seems to be the drop that spills everything over. He comes so hard it hurts, head light, vision dizzy and he gives up on breathing.

\----

When Lance wakes up, the lights are off and he’s lying on top of Lotor’s chest, the other’s hand rubbing circles on his back. He kind of feels like a train has hit him, because all of his muscles are sore, his back aches, his asshole stings and his dick feels bruised.

“Lance?” Lotor calls out, voice gentle. “How are you feeling?”

Lance grunts, too tired to really think too much about it.

Lotor pulls Lance up, and kisses Lance on the mouth, but Lance is too tired to kiss back. He can feel Lotor tense as he sits up.

“Lance?” he asks.

He shakes Lance, and Lance groans, turning away his face.

And then Lance’s alarm clock goes off and he groans even louder, mewling as the sound dies off when Lotor deactivates it.

“What is that?” Lotor asks, but Lance only stands up and goes to his closet to look for his under armor.

\-----

The rest of the morning is a nightmare. He misses way more with his gun than he usually does, he’s the slowest during warm-up, he keeps walking into the walls during the labyrinth exercise and when Shiro slams him into the floor during sparring, he chooses to just not get up.

“Rough night?” Shiro asks as he helps Lance back up again.

“You could say that,” Lance replies, rubbing his back.

“Well, nothing good exercise can’t help with,” Shiro says and Lance whines.

“Did you at least remember condoms?” Shiro asks as they get into a defensive stance.

Lance blushes and avoids a jab. “No,” he answers, really ducking and doing a leg swipe at Shiro, who very easily parries.

“Why?” Shiro asks, sounding judgmental.

“I mean, none of us are sick,” Lance says. “And as long as I don’t do any penetrating, he won’t get pregnant.”

“What?” Shiro exclaims and Lance takes advantage and tackles Shiro. The other man falls, before rolling and they wrestle back and forth until Shiro has eventually gotten Lance into a body lock.

Lance breathes heavily into the floor, feeling Shiro’s weight on his back and his wrists gathered in Shiro’s hand.

“What do you mean?” Shiro asks and lets go, getting up. “Can Lotor get pregnant?”

“Yeah,” Lance says and rolls onto his back, inhaling deeply.

“What?” Hunk exclaims on the other side of the deck. “Is Lotor pregnant?”

“No – “ Lance starts, but Pidge interrupts it with a shriek.

“You can’t have a baby!” they shout and Keith turns to look at Lance with big shocked eyes. “You’re a baby! We’re all babies!”

“Lotor isn’t pregnant!” Lance shouts.

Hunk sighs with relief, and Keith slumps.

“But he, like, can, probably just not with me,” Lance explains further.

“If Lotor can get pregnant, you really need to be better at using condoms!” Shiro scolds.

“I know,” Lance says, covering his face with his hands. He knows. It’s not like he isn’t feeling the shame every time he washes out his ass after he’s messed up.

They’re practicing a seatbelt toss (alright, Shiro is actually beating the crap of out Lance), when they hear the doors open.

Lotor is standing there with his full squad (isn’t Ezor supposed to be out in five hours?) and Lance would’ve gone to them if he could feel his legs. Not the most brilliant moment for them to walk in on, but hey it’s Shiro. Lance would have Shiro step on him any day.

“Hello,” Shiro says, and takes the cloth Hunk throws his way and dries his face even though the ass hat is barely breaking a sweat. The other Paladins have stopped sparring a long time ago, content to see Lance have his ass handed to him for ‘educating purposes’. “Zethrid, glad to see you on your feet. Ezor, you’re out early, how are you feeling?”

Ezor looks a little surprised to be spoken to, but ends up nodding once Lotor gives her a nod. “I’m fine, Black Paladin. Thank you for your care.”

“You can thank Coran,” Shiro says, and smiles and Lance sees the moment something in her brain short circuits. Shiro does that to people. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. Team?”

The team walks to his side, and Lance peels himself off the floor.

“You know Lance,” Shiro starts. “He pilots the Red Lion. This is Pidge. They pilot the Green Lion, and is our hacker and tech genius. Keith here pilots the Black Lion, is half Galra like yourself, and you already knows he’s our best hand-to-hand fighter. Hunk pilots Yellow, and he’s our team mechanic, he can fix and make just about anything. And I’m Shiro.”

The four of them look at each other.

“I thought you piloted the Black Lion?” Lotor asks.

“I did for a while,” Shiro smiles, and succeeds in not letting any feeling show on his face. “Now, I stay on the Castle with Coran, whom you’ve already met. Princess Allura, King Alfor’s daughter, pilots Blue now.”

Keith abruptly stops Lance, who’s been trying to sneak towards Lotor’s side.

“We’ve not finished training, Lance,” Keith says with a constipated look on his face. He had always been quite territorial, and besides the Marmorans and Slav, he doesn’t like people in the Castle and especially not on _his_ deck, apparently.

“Aw come on,” Lance groans, and Lotor smiles pleasantly at Shiro.

“If I can have a word with you, please?” the prince politely requests.

Shiro nods, and Lance is dragged back to the deck by Keith, despite the pleading eyes he sends Shiro’s way. The Generals don’t go with Lotor, and they look almost formal as they lean against the wall of the training deck, obviously settling in for a watch.

“What is he _doing_?” Lance hisses as the two of them go back to formation.

“I don’t know,” Keith answers and lunges.

Lance sees it coming, and as he parries, he takes advantage of Keith’s lowered body and strikes him with an elbow jab. It’s not too hard, but still gets Keith excited. He kicks Lance’s waist and Lance falls down.

“I told you to have your knees locked a million times,” Keith scolds, and Lance rolls last second and avoid a knee to his face.

“I know,” Lance says, and jumps, wrapping his legs around Keith’s waist and using his weight to overpower him. Keith falls but quickly breaks Lance’s body scissor and bounces Lance’s weight off him in the second go. They roll around, trying to overpower each other and it’s all fun until Lance eventually pulls Keith’s hair and Keith bites his arm and when Lotor and Shiro step back into the room, Hunk and Pidge are cheering and hollering and the Generals are looking increasingly concerned.

“He bit me,” Lance pouts once Shiro has split them up.

Keith scowls. “As if you’re not used that already,” he says. “Or do you want me to do it on the neck so it can join the other?”

Lance immediately goes to cover his neck with his hand, and Pidge goes “ _Ooooh_ ”, and Hunk is the only one smart enough to step in front of Keith before Lance shoots forwards.

“Enough, Lance, hit the showers,” Shiro orders. “You’ve been grumpy all day, go take a nap.”

\----

There’s a reason why Lance likes going to bed early, and it isn’t only because sleep heals the skin. He’s always hyper, until he crashes which usually lands him in a terrible mood and today is no different.

He only realizes that once he’s being rinsed underneath the water. It’s been six hours since his alarm clock went off, and for four of them he’s been training. He hates himself when he hasn’t gotten his beauty sleep, and he isn’t surprised when he finds himself grumbling half-finished comebacks at Shiro and Keith.

So he does the thing he always does when he wants to calm down and feel a little more centered: he self-cares. His routine is simple. First off, he rubs off callouses on his hands and feet with a pumice stone dupe he found on Balmera. While a 30 minute conditioning treatment softens his hair, he shaves his legs, armpits, arms and chest (a swimmer’s habit he has never been able to get rid off), clips and files his finger- and toe nails, and exfoliates his face. He spends 10 minutes on popping blackheads on his nose, which is always satisfying, uses his favorite moisturizer and applies his face sheet afterwards. At last he trims his nostril hair and plucks his eyebrows, and lathers his body with a body butter that smells like mango.

He does it in the communal showers, but the team knows better than to bother him once he’s doing his treatments, so they leave immediately after having seen him, which suits him just fine.

Once he’s done he actually feels human, and can’t wait to change his sheets and fall asleep. As far as he knows the afternoon is free until dinner, so he should still have time for a nap.

He’s not exactly irritated when he sees Lotor on his bed, reading a book Lance has no idea where came from. Rather, he just feels a little bitter.

“Shut up,” Lance tells him. “You started all of this. You and your pinga freaky and tasty asshole.”

Lotor lifts his hands in a seemingly universal sign of surrender.

Lance throws himself on the bed, and groans loudly as every muscle seems to finally become pain free as he relaxes.

After a while Lance sighs.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he asks. “Pet my hair.”

A cool hand comes to pet his hair, and he sighs, nudging closer. Normally Lance is wary of Lotor’s claws but when it comes to scalp massages they are the best if applied appropriately.

“You really don’t do well without sleep,” Lotor comments, as he scratches Lance’s scalp.

Lance doesn’t bother answering, only yawns.

“I didn’t know. Your leader had to tell me,” Lotor says. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop?”

Lance blinks slowly at him. “I didn’t want you to.”

Lotor doesn’t answer, only starts stroking his hair.

“Lotor?” Lance asks.

“Yes?”

Lance blinks quickly a couple of times, before he whispers: “Do you love me?”

As expected, Lotor doesn’t answer.

After a while, Lance turns his head away from Lotor and goes to sleep.

\----

Lance wakes up prissy as fuck. He dreamt about Lotor’s fucking _dick_ of all things, except it had tentacles instead of slick nubs in the dream. Disgruntled, Lance sits up and sees Lotor at the foot of his bed, still reading the same book.

He wordlessly waves the other man towards him. Lotor puts down the book and crawls closer.

Silently, Lance arranges the prince on his back, and climbs up to straddle him.

\----

Lance rides Lotor hard and fast and comes before Lotor does. He lets Lotor grind up into him until he comes, and because Lotor actually remembered a condom, Lance rolls off as soon as he’s come and falls right back to sleep.

\----

When Lance wakes up for dinner, the world is awesome. Lotor kisses him despite Lance’s morning breath, his feet are warm and his legs feel soft and silky against the sheets and Lotor’s legs. Lotor can’t stop touching his legs (apparently only having slept with Lance in his stubble periods), and draping kisses all over Lance’s shoulders and neck. Lance giggles and enjoys the feeling of them just cuddling naked, chatting about stupid things.

And then Lotor sighs.

“We leave before dinner,” he announces and gets up. Lance feels sad immediately.

“Where will you go?” Lance ask, sitting up.

Lotor stretches, his back muscles a current underneath his skin. “We’ll prepare the planet’s security systems and afterwards we’ll see about securing my bases.”

“Okay,” Lance says. “I’ll follow you out.”

\----

Zethrid, surprisingly enough, gives Lance a hug before they’re about to depart. The team is in the shuttle bay with him, and Lance sort of doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to kiss Lotor goodbye, kind of wants to rather die. Maybe it’s because of the photographs, but Lance isn’t quite sure how he feels about PDA’s in front of his team yet.

Allura and Lotor are exchanging information as Acxa gets the pod started, but Lance can’t honestly listen. He’s not sure when (if) he’s going to see Lotor again, and he’s worried sick about the whole thing where Zarkon almost succeeded in killing him. He’s pressing his nails into his palms and biting his lip, when he realizes that everybody stopped talking.

He looks up, and finds their glances on him and he wonders if he missed a question or an important piece of information. The Generals look pretty expectant, while the Paladins look pretty overbearing.

“We’ll be leaving then,” Lotor says, voice cool but eyes gentle. Lance realizes that Lotor knows what Lance is thinking about, and that he doesn’t expect anything of him. And Lance takes pride in that they’ve reached the point where they’re comfortable departing like this, where they feel secure in the fact that they’ll meet again and where they respect each other’s boundaries. It took a lot to get here.

“Lotor?” Lance asks, and Lotor tilts his head him.

Lance walks up to him, and pulls him down by the collar. Lotor lets himself be moved, and Lance pecks him quickly on the lips, before deciding to fuck it. Go big or go home, right? He wraps his arms around the other’s neck, and kisses him for longer until Acxa clears her throat, and the Prince’s lips move in a smile against Lance’s.

“Goodbye, Handsome,” Lance says, a little breathless as he pulls back.

Lotor smirks, but there’s something soft underneath it. “Goodbye, Lance.”


	15. How long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late i know. Some of you already know, but i've gotten a new job and I've went from working 10 hours a week to 30 hours a week, and at the same time keeping up with my studies and attending university. Besides that, I've been writing on two other Lancelot fics and posted a birthday fic for Nerbull (Hance) if any of you are interested in checking it out.
> 
> Anyways, you guys have been freaking amazing at feedback. I love talking to you, in the comments as well as on my tumblr. Keep the feedback coming, it's definitely one of the few things that are making me hold on right now. 
> 
> Shoutout to Nerbull for listening to my semi-constant complaining! You're bomb!

Allura, Shiro and Kolivan are mean ass motherfuckers.

Excuse Lance’s language, but sometimes he truly hates how freaking uptight the people in management are, okay? Lance and Lotor finally have an established and somewhat accepted relationship, which is to say that Lance is actually able to _call_ the dude. But noooo.

“We can only call when it’s important, Lance” “Because we bare ourselves every time we call each other, Lance” “No, you can’t be there during the meeting, you’ll only distract him, Lance”. Well, Lance says fuck all of these mean ass motherfuckers.

How much could two minutes hurt? Lance knows from Shiro that Lotor has gone to the main ship to formally visit his father. Lotor claims he won’t be in danger as long as other Galra are watching, so despite how he’s closer to his father and surrounded by his people, he’s supposedly the safest he can be. It also means he’s exposed to a lot more information than he’s used to. That, however, also means that the calls have to be extremely short.

“I can’t,” Lance whimpers. “I miss him so much.”

Shiro sighs. “Lance.”

“You guys are the worst,” Lance continues. “How dare you crave these things of me while depriving me of the loving and caring the Lance-man needs.”

“All I asked you was to help Hunk with the dishes,” Shiro points out.

“Impossible,” Lance groans.

Lance is strong however, so he sacrifices his small amount of energy to help Hunk with the dishes. The team calls him melodramatic, but they don’t understand. Lance and Lotor finally _got_ _there_ , but now they’re living long-distance (they always had, but at least Lotor could come and go as he wanted before), _and_ Lotor lives next door to the dude who’s tried to kill him (all of them) several times. Lance trusts Lotor, knows Lotor has a lifetime of experience of trying not to be killed by his father, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard to walk around with the knowledge that at any given moment, at any point of time, Lotor could die and Lance wouldn’t be able to say goodbye, wouldn’t even know.

\-----

The first time it happens, the Paladins are on a refugee planet. It has been empty for several decapheebs, but the conditions are pretty versatile, so lately the rebels have placed the refugees that are waiting for transportation or placement there.

Voltron arrives with supplies and also because Galra scouts are getting a little too close to the refugee planet, and Voltron needs to clear the area.

While Keith, Hunk and Pidge take care of the scouts, Allura and Lance do ground work. Tents and paper houses cover the grassy field, and Lance is dirty with sweat. A headache is coming on, but the starlight feels so good on his skin that he can’t bring himself to go inside and take a break. Against Shiro’s orders, he ends up taking off his chest armor and helmet and he feels much better.

He’s about to put on his armor again, because the star is going down and it’s getting a little chilly, when someone pulls at his arm.

He turns around, and sees one of the many aliens from Tut that he has helped today. He’s been conversing with the species the entire day, so he can tell that the alien is nervous.

“Hello,” Lance says and kneels down because the alien barely reaches his waist. Their eyes flicker up at down, reminds Lance’s with eyes that could belong on a bee, their furry arms holding a package.

“You’re the Red Paladin, right?” the alien asks.

“Yeah,” Lance answers, because technically it’s true even though Lance will never feel that way.

“This is for you,” the alien says and gives him the package. “When my planet was evacuating, strangers showed up and distracted the Galra from firing at our ships. One of them grabbed me. They said their name is Ezor and you would know who they are.”

Lance blinks quickly several times and looks down at the package. It’s in a weird acrylic box, and weights hardly anything. “Oh. Thank you so much. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” the alien answers and their lips turn in something Lance would like to think is a smile.

“Thank you, Mina,” Lance says. “You carried this with you the whole way?”

They nod, a little proudly and Lance smiles, careful to do it without teeth in case baring teeth might scare them.

“Have you gotten any food yet?” Lance asks, putting the box down.

“No, I wanted to get you alone before I delivered the packaget,” the alien answers and Lance frowns.

“You shouldn’t have gone hungry over that,” Lance says and hands Mina three meals. “The showers should still be open. Get some sleep.”

Mina holds out their hands, and Lance, having been shown the gesture a lot throughout the day, lifts his own. They clap their hands together like a double high five, though they only have two large fingers (with claws). Apparently it’s a way to say goodbye for Mina’s species. After Mina goes, Lance looks down at the box.

\----

In the evening, after having eaten dinner together, they all sit in the lounge. Lance has put the box on the table, waiting for Coran to come and scan the content before he can open it. He impatiently files his nails as Hunk hands them plates with cake.

“Coran!” Lance calls for the 57th time.

“A moment, my boy,” Coran says, once again reassembling the scanner. When that doesn’t work he slams it on the table, and it comes to life. “What a few millennia can do to technology!”

Lance puts down the file, and tries not to rush the Altean as he goes to scan the box.

“It appears there’re only metals inside this box?” Coran notices, a little surprised. “And minerals, but nothing that contains technology. Could possibly be something humans might be allergic to.”

“Olkarion technology shows up as purely organic material too though – Lance, wait!” Shiro snaps.

But Lance has already broken open the box. Inside there’s a lot of silk paper, and on the bottom there’s a leather bag. He pulls it up and weights it.

“It’s GAC,” he says after having peaked inside. “Someone sent us money.”

“There’s more in the bottom,” Coran notices, looking over Lance’s shoulder.

Lance removes the paper, It’s … jewelry?

As Lance takes out and separates the content, he sees two finger bracelets, what might look like a body chain and some sort of … face chain? They are all made out of a crystal-like black material, which reflects in a gunmetal color.

In the bottom there’s a note. The writing is Galra, and Lance picks it up and hands it to Coran, who strokes his moustache as he deciphers it.

“It’s from Lotor,” Coran says. “He says that he hopes it suits you.”

Lance’s eyes widen and he stares back at the jewelry with a flush starting to spread on his cheeks. Hesitantly, he starts to put the jewelry on. The bracelet fits his fingers perfectly. He looks at his hands, and his nails look too ugly to do the bracelets justice and black isn’t really the color he normally goes for, but they’re so beautiful and feels like warm pebbles on his skin.

“What do you think?” he asks, showing his hands to Hunk.

Hunk smiles crookedly. “Black isn’t really your style, but I guess they look alright.”

“Lance, I think you should take them off and let Coran do a proper scan,” Shiro frowns.

But the longer scans come out clear as well, and Lance hides the jewelry in his shelf, feeling giddy. He used to give his ex-girlfriend small trinkets all the time, but he hasn’t tried actually having presents given to him. It makes him feel happy and a little nervous excitement. He has always loved being spoiled, but in a huge family and no serious relationships, it hasn’t really happened a lot.

That night Lance puts on the jewelry in front of the mirror. The face chain’s pendant is a half-moon on his forehead, delicate chains cascading down the sides of his nose and curving around his cheekbones, leaving his lips and eyes open. The body chain tickles on his chest, forming a necklace over his collarbones, the half-moon again appearing as a pendant and the chains cross over his breastbone, and curve around his lower ribs and shoulders. He looks weird, the jewelry oddly strange (as in strange exotic) and feminine on him. But knowing that Lotor picked this presents and went through the trouble of sending it to him, makes him so happy, and also hot and that night he goes to Lotor’s old chamber and presses his nose into the pillows, inhaling Lotor’s lingering scent while wearing the jewelry and stroking himself. He tries to tease himself, push himself to the edge of climax again and again and then stops, holding himself back. He does this until it gets hard to breathe. Finally, he puts his hand around his neck, holding it tight and he comes so hard his legs shake for an hour.

\----

It continues like that. A week later it’s a box of dry fruits – which he of course shares with the team – and the week after that it’s a box of lotion and body sprays. Lotor sends him art from different planets which Lance uses to decorate the boring walls of the Castle. The Prince sends him tea and spices, ankle bracelets that match the rest of the jewelry, sends him new shoes that fits his toes and shape of foot. Either Lotor found the Earth store at the space mall, or he had them tailored. After a few days, he sends the rest of them team shoes as well.

That, however, doesn’t help on how badly Lance just wants to actually freaking talk to Lotor. As a matter of fact, Lance misses Lotor even more when he gets the presents. Throughout the whole gifting process he still isn’t allowed to join the video meetings, and so that’s why he crawls into the air vent okay? He’s a weak, weak man and there’s only so much Lance can take. Besides, Lance is bored out of his mind. Lately Shiro and Allura have made him do a lot of Castle work, so to speak, a lot of PR and a lot of refugee helping. And hey, it isn’t that Lance doesn’t like showing his face, doesn’t like helping people in subtler ways than canons and lasers blazing, but he just misses flying Red, as crazy as she tends to be.

So seeing Lotor might make him feel a little less restless. He’s not going to interfere… or be in the way or anything. He just wants to hear Lotor’s voice. He feels like he barely remembers it.

He’s confident that Shiro won’t find out. Only Keith and Lance have been in them so far, since Pidge’s limps are too short for them to climb anything but the horizontal ones, and Hunk is claustrophobic. Shiro probably has been told by Keith that it was possible, but what Shiro doesn’t know, is that Lance can get in the vents that would probably be way too narrow for even Keith. Lance has neglected to let the team know just how flexible he is, because first off, he forgot and then he thought he might need it for something like this. On top of that, the Castle systems knows his body and it won’t tell on him since it isn’t registered to find it weird that Lance is in the vent.

He settles in a cobra pose as Shiro, Kolivan and Allura waits for contact. It isn’t long before the system beeps once, and a hologram flickers up, the light showing through the misty white panels of the room.

“65O7B9,” he hears Lotor say. Who taught him letters?

“35OW759,” Shiro replies, and there’s an affirming sound. A code, probably?

“Location?”

“Grentade sun, Falax Galaxy,” Shiro replies. “You?”

“We’re moving through the Danj-way, but Haggar is trying to conceal our destination,” Lotor answers. “How is Lance?”

“He’s doing well,” Shiro answers. “He’s very pleased about your latest present.” A bag of seeds. “He doesn’t suspect anything.”

A moment of silence. Lance feels a lump in his throat. What’s going on?

“Ezor and Axca are still tailing you,” Lotor replies. “Just in case.”

“I already told you we’re keeping him out of the Lion,” Shiro says. “He hasn’t noticed yet.”

Lance can hear his own loud breathing, and he claps a hand on top of his mouth, and crooks his head towards their voices.

“Anyways, are there any news about…”

They go on to talk about colonies and rebel forces, and Lance is generally lost in the information exchange. All he understands is that the team has been out flying their Lions a lot more than Lance has been told. He hadn’t noticed just how often at least one of them wasn’t there, because he’s been busy cleaning pods and handing out protein bars.

How…

Lotor and Shiro finish their meeting, and Allura and Shiro leave the room. Lance lies there for a second, going through the information in his head. Why had they been grounding him? Were the gifts only distractions? What is it Allura and Shiro are hiding, and is the rest of the team in on it? Why hasn’t he just flat out been told why he can’t fly his Lion?

He starts to squirm out, and skips the entrance in which he got in. He’s dirty with dust, and being caught dusty wouldn’t bring him any good even if the entrance is easy.

He falls out in front of his room, and uses a good twenty minutes on correcting the wall panel, before going into his room. He throws the clothes in the laundry shoot and goes to shower. In there, he wonders what his next move should be.

Confront the team? That could bring out the truth, but could also result in the team shutting down on him. He doesn’t believe they would feel that entitled, but then again he never would’ve believed them to do something like this. And Lotor too.

Lance sighs and turns off the water. Maybe he should just keep quiet and see if there’s more information he can extract now that the team aren’t aware that he knows. And if nothing shows, he would have to go fight somebody. Preferably Hunk. The guy was probably still guilty, and therefore more liable to confess.

\-----

Over the next few days, Lance watches the team carefully. There’s seemingly nothing out of place, but now he does notice how when he might look for Keith, Allura will quickly ask him to make dinner with Hunk, or how the holograms are always off when he enters the bridge.

It bothers him so much that the presents, which have been lying on his desk, are thrown into his closet.

See, that’s just the way Lance processes things. It’s not that his parents didn’t love him and didn’t teach him healthy coping techniques, especially after he was diagnosed with anxiety, but in a large family it was just easier sometimes to put your issues in a chest and keep it locked away.

Mostly, he’s gotten better at telling people how he feels. Now he can happily shove his feelings in the face of others, but only the small things. When it comes to things like these, where he starts to doubt his worth, he turns frigid. He kicks the chest off the cliff’s edge, and watches it fall into the black water. He lets the chest drown in him, lets it sink deeper and deeper into him until he doesn’t know where it is, but he knows it’s there and it will probably not be found again.

\----

“Where are we going?” Lance asks.

“Towards a signal of an alliance,” Allura answers, not turning to look at him. That’s vague.

The others seem busy on their control panels.

“Why don’t we scout the area with our Lions as we usually do?” Lance asks, a little passive-aggressively.

“There’s a field of some kind shielding the planet,” Allura answers. “If you go now, you’ll lose contact with the Castle.”

“Is it safe for the Castle to go under the shield then?” he asks.

“We think,” Allura answers and finally turns, crossing her arms as she looks at him as if she’s getting ready to fight. “But we scanned the planet. There’s no Galra activity, and if it’s a trap, the Castle is not completely defenseless.”

Lance bites his lip, and looks away. There’s always something.

“Lotor also told us to go to that planet,” Allura adds, a little softer. “I know you haven’t flown the Lion for a while, but let’s not be too drastic.”

“How is flying Red being drastic, as long as it isn’t Keith in the pilot seat?” Lance snaps.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Keith asks, irritated.

Lance doesn’t want to answer, because he knows once he and Keith are bantering, Allura will slip out of this conversation.

“The Lions are the beacons of freedom,” Lance continues, crossing his arms and turning away his face. “If it’s so safe, I don’t get why I can’t stretch my wings.”

Hunk turns his head and looks at Lance, and Lance doesn’t want to look back.

Allura doesn’t seem to know what to answer, and Lance glares at her for a minute, before he turns away.

“Well if you insist on us staying,” Lance says and mock-yawns. “I mean, I get it, you want some eye candy for the trip.” He wriggles his brows at her.

She rolls her eyes, but seems relieved to let the conversation drop.

As they get closer to the planet, Lance notices the amounts of water, which is bigger than he’s used to. He can’t help but get a little excited, and let his grudge go for the moment.

They land on what seems to be a wide stretch of coast, and Lance patiently listens to Shiro go through instructions as they prepare to leave the Castle. It’s hard to keep focus when he can hear the waves; hard to feel serious when the smell of water hits his nostrils. It has to be fresh water, because Lance can’t track any salt in the scent. Or something else entirely?

The beach is clear, and after having examined the area for a little while, noticing footprints, Lance pulls off his helmet without permission. Shiro snaps at him, but Lance honestly can’t hear. The air is humid and warm against his face, and the wind softly rustles his hair. He stares around, and looks at the water.

“Lance – “ Shiro starts, a little sharper but quiets suddenly.

Lance inhales deeply, his eyes burning a little bit and his lower lip trembles. He looks up at the sky, feeling the roots of his lashes become wet.

“Where are we?” he asks. He’s never been to a planet so alike home.

“There’s no name. The planet is new,” Pidge answers. “But according to the Galra systems, it shouldn’t exist.

They hear a rustle behind them among the trees, and Lance quickly puts on his helmet. They all get into formation as the sound moves closer. Lance is really hoping this is just some animal or perhaps a curious local, because he really doesn’t want to leave just yet.

“Oh,” a familiar voice calls out. “Hey, don’t shoot for a minute, okay?”

Ezor appears in front of them.

Lance drops his gun.

“What are you doing here?” Shiro asks her, putting his own bayard away.

“Waiting for you,” she replies. “Come on, follow me.”

And so they follow Ezor as she quietly leads them through the forest. Lance suppresses his need to ask the questions on his mind and even keeps from complaining too much as they make way.

It’s not too long when they notice smoke in the sky. Not “villages on fire” smoke, but the ”someone is cooking” fire.

What they see in the clearing surprise them. It appears to be houses made out of stone, their lines straight and modern in an almost human way and the roofs appear to be made out of some sort of transparent crystal. But there are chimneys and they’re the source of the smoke. But still, there is no one. The houses have no windows, and nobody is outside.

Except one tall figure. Lance sees Zethrid at one house, leaning against the wall of it. She catches his eyes and knocks on the wall she’s leaning into. After a moment, doors slide open, and Lotor steps out. He’s wearing loose silky pants that are rolled up to his knees, and a shirt with cut sleeves which bares his ribs.

He lights up when he sees Lance, and Lance grins back.

Lance almost misses the Altean woman that follows Lotor out of the house.

\----

While Allura reunites with her kind, some of them her literal relatives, Lance and Lotor take each other’s hand and go to the trees to make out in peace.

“Hey, Lotor,” Lance says, after Lotor has finished forming the third hickey. “I’m sorry about last time.”

“Hm?” Lotor hums, already bowing his head to make another mark.

“About the ‘I love you’ thing,” Lance says and notices the way Lotor pauses for a split second before continuing. “I… I know you, I know how you feel, but I guess I just wanted to hear it from you and not an invasive sleep chamber.”

Lotor sighs. Lance is glad he’s no longer in the mood.

“I care for you,” Lotor says, meeting Lance’s eyes as he straightens up. “I like you. Very, very much. I can’t explain what I would do for you.”

Lance stares at him for a long moment, and the chest breaks opens and everything swims to the surface. “Then why have you been lying to me?”


	16. Yell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had to cut the chapter in two D:   
> Otherwise enjoy ! ^^

“What have I been lying to you about?” Lotor asks, playing the dumb card. “We’ve barely talked.”

“Cut it out,” Lance says, and he can feel the slow burn of anger start to coil in his stomach.

“Cut what – “

“Stop!” Lance shouts, and his voice echoes among the trees.

Lotor freezes, his eyes sharp and he pulls back, slowly narrowing his eyes at Lance.

Lance realizes that Lotor hasn’t seen him angry before, and it makes sense. He doesn’t get angry a lot. Lance thinks of himself as an understanding guy, and it doesn’t take a lot for him to let his grudges go. Besides, being angry is never fun. He has a tendency to cry, and his voice breaks and he says things he always regrets.

But once he _is_ angry? Only time and guilt calm him down.

Lance forces himself to take a few deep breaths. His chest feels too small for all the air he’s heaving, his legs and arms too thin to carry his chest, his mind throbbing against the inside of his skull. He feels helpless and foolish and stupid. He should’ve fucking known that Lotor was going to lie to him.

“Just answer me,” Lance says, a little calmer. “Why can’t I be in my Lion?”

Lotor’s lips purse. “Zarkon has sent a special force out for your capture called the Shadows. They’re nothing like Voltron has seen before. If I succeeded in capturing you once, they’ll surely succeed as well.”

Lance stares at him. “Because of the pictures?” he asks.

Lotor nods. “They’re the force that captured your leader time and time during his time as the Champion. After Zarkon was injured, Haggar put them in pods to keep them stabile. If they’re kept inactive for too long, they …”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. Lance blinks hard at him.

“Then why hasn’t Zarkon used to them capture you?” he asks. “If they’re so good.”

“He has,” Lotor says, a little angrily. “You think my sisters and I ended up underneath a burning building, locked underground to burn alive randomly? It was their way to kill us and make it look like an accident. If you hadn’t come, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

Lance stares at him, and his heartbeat becomes just a little calmer.

“I didn’t want you to be scared for nothing,” Lotor continues, a little softer, clearly sensing Lance letting go of his anger. “The universe needs Voltron, but not for the smaller missions. After I told White that you would most likely become their next target, we agreed we’d try to keep you out of the Lion. But that just…” He looks away. “It wasn’t supposed to be a secret, just a precaution.”

“That’s cute and all,” Lance says, his voice seething with acid, “but if you haven’t noticed, your boyfriend is a Paladin and I can’t stay at home and cook meals and clean your house, while you go out and be the hero. I didn’t leave my planet to stay passive. I’m here to fight the war, and you have no right to try and stop me.”

Lotor rolls his eyes. “You’re naïve. Do you have any idea what they would do to you if you got captured? And for what?”

“Probably not,” Lance says. “But I didn’t sign up for this war without knowing that it takes sacrifice.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Lotor exclaims, and this time it’s him who’s yelling. “How stupid can you be?!”

“I will die stupid,” Lance yells back. “You can’t protect me from getting killed no matter how hard you try!”

“Shut up,” Lotor snaps, and grabs Lance’s arm. “That’s not funny.”

Lance glares at him. “I wasn’t trying to be,” he bites. “Even if I don’t die in this stupid war, I’ll only live for 60 years more, so you should get used to the thought already.”

Lotor lets go and steps back, his eyes widened and cold.

Lance snorts and goes before he gets to say something else he might regret.

\----

Lance is marching into the village, looking for a fight, when he sees Allura sitting besides someone who looks like they might’ve been her brother and he stops, looking at them for a moment. There are tears in her eyes, and the other Altean is holding her hand, a calm smile on their lips.

A lump forms in his throat, and he stops, surveying the scene from the tree line. His anger evaporates, and he stares at them. He’s so incredibly happy for her in that moment, needing her to be content, wanting her to be satisfied, just for a few days. She cared so much about how the Paladins were feeling, how they were holding up, and never allowed herself the same privilege.

If Lance hadn’t eaten those candy apples that night, they might’ve never been here. Or at least, probably wouldn’t have been here yet. The thought is what makes the acid left in his stomach to disappear.

He sits down on a fallen tree, and starts to take off his armor as he observes them.

“Are you fighting with Lotor?” he hears Acxa’s voice behind him and he jumps.

He turns his head and kind of wants to snap, but ends up reeling back his anger last minute. She’s standing with crossed arms, trying to look pissed but mostly coming off as nervous. Lance wonders how much she heard.

“I guess,” he admits.

“About what?” she asks.

Lance controls his urge to roll his eyes. Is playing the dumb card a sibling thing? “Playing stupid doesn’t suit you.”

She chuckles awkwardly, and the sound comes so abruptly that he looks up at her.

“Are you going to forgive him?” Acxa asks.

Lance sends her a look. “You’re more forward than I expected.”

She shrugs. “He’s told me being forward works best with you.”

He snorts. “So he sent you?”

“You might say that. One of us will be following you at all times from now on.”

Lance makes a face, and rubs his eyes. “To protect me, I guess?”

“Yes.”

They’re silent for a while, and the doors are starting to open in the small village. Wary Alteans are stepping out, some of them looking like could be Allura’s close family, and others obviously mix raced.

A few children even peak out their heads.

“Are you breaking up with him?” Acxa asks.

“I don’t know yet,” Lance says.

As soon as the children come out, the tense silence dissipates. Their laughter soon fill the ear, and not long after, the adults shouting at them. The children surround Coran, curious seeing as they haven’t seen a light-skinned Altean before. His frozen body melts and soon he is running around, indulging in their games and the adults watches in overbearing fondness as they start to prepare food.

The children tease the old man and ask him questions, until his grin comes on and the crow’s feet around his eyes are pulled tight.

“I miss my family,” Lance says after a while. “It’s a privilege to say I have one, at least. But I’m here so they can stay safe. If I can’t fight, then why the Hell am I here?”

Acxa lowers her chin. “Who says you aren’t fighting while grounded?” she asks. “What’s the use of sending you into battle, if you’re just going to die?”

“I guess you’re right,” Lance says, and smiles dryly at her. “I don’t mind being grounded, you know. Rebels are grounded all the time, and they’re the foundation of the fight against Zarkon. But they’re not able to pilot a Lion or form Voltron. What if an emergency happens, and… and they need to form Voltron, but I’m a thousand miles away? Am I just going to watch while my friends are slaughtered?”

She nods in understanding.

“And why did they keep it a secret?” Lance asks. “Am I not trustworthy? Don’t they think I’m mature enough to understand when I’m making everybody a target?”

“How would they know?” she asks. “This hasn’t really happened before.”

Lance meets her eyes, and his smile turns a little cruel. “Did you really forget how you attacked Voltron and captured me already?”

She looks down.

“You were trying to protect him,” Lance says. “I’ve forgiven you.”

And as he says it, he realizes it’s true.

\----

The day almost reluctantly turns into evening, and now all of the Alteans have left their houses. The resident have a firm grip on technology, but have also embraced their closeness with nature, and so dinner is made out of grilled vegetables and dry fruits. It’s better than goo, and Lance eats wholeheartedly.

At this point, Lotor has joined them and sits with an Altean called Thilliam, who is apparently one of the children Lotor freed from captivity. He is now the oldest of them, the leader, despite how he doesn’t look much older than Allura. They both sit with Shiro and Allura furthest away from the fire, and as they talk, Lance befriends the other Alteans. As he looks at the crowd, it becomes apparent to him that most of the residents aren’t actually Alteans, but Native people of the planet. They have auburn skin, large brown eyes, diamond-shaped faces and long arms and ears. Apparently they lived on the planet first, and had nests in the trees, but when Thilliam and the two other Alteans came to the planet, they had started cooperating and started a symbiosis – food for tech.

In the end it was that tech and the high amount of quintessence, which reunited the three Alteans with the descendants of former Alteans prisoners. Most of them look fairly pureblooded, seeing as Alteans have more problems reproducing with other species than the Galra, but a few of them stand out as mixed.

At some point Lance decides to get his spare bottles of alcohol to really get the festivities started. Acxa begrudgingly follows him, and Lance tries not to be annoyed about it as he gets into the Castle and goes to his room.

“Where did I put it?” he asks out loud as he throws some T-shirts aside. “I know I hid them somewhere!”

“What are you looking for?” Acxa asks, her arms crossed behind him.

“My drink!” Lance replies. “I thought I told you not to come into my room?”

She blatantly ignores him, and Lance finally finds the alcohol.

When he comes back, music is playing and Thilliam and Allura are tentatively dancing together. It’s the Natives’ traditional dance apparently, and by the time Allura is dancing expertly, Lance and Hunk are already tipsy and kind of tumbling about as they try to teach themselves the dance. At some point some nice locals finally take pity on their attempts, and separates them to try and teach them the dance.

Lance is dancing with a tall girl, who mostly looks like the Natives but have the colored pupils and pointy ears of an Altean. She’s quite patient and her laugh rings nicely, and Lance is actually starting to have fun when the second rounds of fruits and nuts go around. He tries not to look at Lotor, but knows that Lotor is looking at him.

The thought of it alone agitates him, so he drinks past what he should, and Shiro ends up standing up and taking the bottle away from him. It’s no matter, Lance is drunk enough for the buzz to last for a bit.

He’s drowsily watching the festivities, sleeping on Acxa’s lap, when Shiro nears him again.

“Lance, come on,” Shiro says.

“No,” Lance groans, turning into a noodle as Shiro pulls at his arm.

“You can’t sleep here,” Shiro insists.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Lance mumbles back.

“We can talk about it in the morning,” Shiro offers.

“Whatever man,” Lance replies, and Shiro grabs his arm and pulls him to his feet. Lance sways and Shiro throws Lance’s arm over his shoulder. Lance automatically leans into him.

“I wanna go to Lotor,” Lance whines.

“What did he say?” he hears Acxa asks.

“Nothing,” Shiro replies.

“Lootoooooor,” Lance whines.

“Hand him over,” Acxa says.

“He’s drunk,” Shiro says, clearly exasperated.

“No, he’s angry at you and he wants Lotor,” Acxa says.

“Lance,” Shiro sighs, as if Lance is going to take it back. But Lance stubbornly gives him the cold shoulder, and Acxa keeps nagging, until Shiro admits defeat and hands Lance over to Acxa.

“Thanks,” Lance mumbles, and tries to at least cooperate a little bit by moving his feet. She walks a couple of steps and a few worried villagers offer them help, which they politely decline to.

“Ugh,” she says, kneels and picks him up.

“Oh my god, you’re strong!” Lance yelps. “That reminds me of my aunt, okay, she was like crazy strong, and had – “

He talks all the way to one of the houses on which Acxa quietly lets herself in. The house is quiet, dark and warm, breezes softly moving the curtains. He quiets a little, trying to convince her not to go. He hears a door be opened, and Lotor’s sleepy voice.

“He wanted to see you,” Acxa says, sound off-put despite how eager she was to bring him here.

“Lotor,” Lance says and holds out his arms.

Lotor only crosses his arms and tilts his hips. “Are you ready not to be a moron?” Lotor asks.

Lance frowns at him. “That is a very difficult question. Can I answer tomorrow?”

Lotor sighs dramatically and takes him off Acxa’s hands. He hears the door to the house when it closes a second later.

“I love you,” Lance whines.

“You keep saying that,” Lotor says.

“Yes,” Lance replies, and he’s dumped unceremoniously onto a bed. He groans, and Lotor starts to pull off his armor. “Because I do.”

“Even though you don’t believe I can protect you,” Lotor says.

Lance doesn’t really want to answer that, so he closes his eyes while Lotor makes way through his armor.

Finally, he’s only in his boxers and feels the clean feeling of sheets underneath him. Lotor quickly gets in bed too, dressed in what seems to be black velvet pajamas. Despite how hot Lance is feeling they cuddle up underneath the blanket. Lance kisses Lotor’s forehead and the feeling of Lotor’s long lashes touching Lance’s face as he blinks feels like butterfly wings brushing his skin.


	17. tides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet none y'all expected a chapter so soon huh
> 
> this became a long ass chapter oh and there'll, at most, be five chapters left of this story
> 
> now...i can finally watch the spiders on my ceiling in peace

Lance wakes up with his head on Lotor’s arm, his cheek resting on the other’s shoulder. Lotor’s skin is warm underneath his, and his breathes come deep and calm. Lotor’s fingers are softly making circles on Lance’s bare back.

He can tell that Lotor knows he’s awake by the way he grows tense.

“Lotor,” Lance huskily says. Not really because he’s unsure Lotor is there or whether he’ll answer. Not even because he needs to ask a question.

He just wants to say his name.

“I’m here,” Lotor whispers back, and turns a little, so they’re face to face. Lance looks at the other, really inspects the way his skin reflects light like satin. How Lance can’t see any pores. How his white hair looks almost translucent. His golden sclera glows like amber with fire within. His lavender eyelids are smooth, blemish-free. Tiny white hair grows outside his eyebrows, like anemones in a sea of lilacs. As his blue eyes subtly move, and the violet slit pupils dilate, Lance knows he’s being taken in in the same way.

It’s not often the universe allows them moments like these. To really look at each other. Often it’s so full of flesh and material things. They did thing that didn’t answer their prayers, but at least – at least silenced their questions.

The fight yesterday wasn’t stupid. It’s them getting used to each other, and Lance… Lance probably should say sorry. Telling Lotor that he would die no matter what had been wrong. He did it to make Lotor feel powerless and scared, and that was cruel, even malicious. That’s not how Lance wants to talk the man he loves, even though what he said wasn’t a lie.

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispers. “About last night.”

Lotor blinks slowly. “Yeah. I’m sorry too.”

They’re silent for a while, and Lance puts his hand on Lotor’s cheek.

“I love you,” Lance whispers. “More than you will ever understand.”

Lotor closes his eyes, long lashes fanning his cheeks and Lance leans in and kisses him. Lotor sighs, before returning the kiss. His cheek is cold underneath Lance’s fingers, and it sounds stupid, but Lance imagines that the embers in his stomach will warm Lotor up. Like they always do. They start to blaze, making his heartbeat faster, making his palms sweaty, making his eyelids feel heavy. Lance thinks his hand is shaking, but realizes belatedly that Lotor is the one who’s shaking.

“Lotor?” Lance says, pulling back.

Lotor’s eyes are still closed, a small frown on his brow. He turns his face downwards, and Lance doesn’t know what to do or say, so he just slowly strokes Lotor’s face with his fingertips.

“I missed you,” Lotor confesses and pulls Lance into his arms.

“I missed you more,” Lance whispers.

Lotor lifts Lance’s face into a kiss again, and Lance lets it happen. This time there’s more fire in the kiss, a taste of desperation on Lotor’s lips. Lotor rolls on top of Lance and pulls off his pajamas shirt. Lance stares at his chest, putting his hands on Lotor’s chest and gliding them down to his hipbones. It’s odd to be so full of awe about something he’s seen so many times before, but this time is somehow different. Lance really takes in Lotor’s body and for once it’s not an object of Lance’s desires, but instead an object of his worship.

“ _Dios_ ,” Lance whispers. “Por favor.”

Lotor lowers over him again, and Lance’s hands move all over his chest. His lover’s ribs are a little more protruding than Lance recalls them, his shoulder blades sharper, but concern is drowned out by fond excitement. Lance sighs when Lotor cups Lance’s head, and Lotor hums into his mouth, slowly rolling his hips against Lance’s. Lance inhales a little quickly through his nose, feeling a little overwhelmed for a second, before his hands fall down to grasp Lotor’s ass.

Lotor pulls away from Lance’s lips, his lips bitten and dark. He sits up to shuck off his pants, and to Lance’s great joy, his lover isn’t wearing anything underneath. As Lance lets his hands slide down Lotor’s ass cheeks, Lotor gasps in a way that could sound like a sob. Lance shushes him, and slows his hands, focusing on taking in how Lotor feels against him instead of what his body is telling him it wants to do.

Lotor inhales deeply a few seconds later and releases a shivering exhalation. Then he presses his neck against Lance’s mouth and Lance kisses it as his hands start to massage Lotor’s ass cheeks a little harder. Lotor gasps and rolls again, and Lance sucks.

He feels a little bit of slickness on his fingers, and he bites his lips, before nudging his fingers closer to Lotor’s crack.

“Can…” Lance clears his throat, and Lotor sighs and hides his face into the pillow.

“Yes,” he answers, muffled.

“Can I,” Lance swallows, “touch it?”

“I said yes,” Lotor hisses as he lifts his face again, looking flustered and annoyed.

“I need to be explicit,” Lance hisses back. “Can I touch, perhaps even finger, your butt- “

So quickly Lance barely registers it, Lotor grabs Lance’s hand and places their fingers on his asshole. It’s wet and smooth, and Lance can feel his face go red.

“You had your tongue up there, what are you hesitating for?” Lotor continues and smiles when he sees Lance’s surprised face expression.

Lance whines and Lotor chuckles huskily.

“Is it okay?” Lance asks, rubbing his finger along Lotor’s rim.

“Just…” Lotor sighs, arching his back. “As long as I’m top.”

Lance nods. “You know, when you were away,” he whispers, softly nudging his finger inside and Lotor opens up nicely for him, “I put on all your jewelry and … got naked. The jewelry felt like… like your hands on my body.”

Lotor pleasantly rumbles. “All over?”

Lance grins. “Cold.”

Lotor huffs, and Lance pushes his finger further inside.

“I had to hold my neck just to come,” Lance continues a little hoarsely and focuses on moving his finger a little bit. “So I could feel like you were there. God, my fingers never reached the spot yours do.”

Lotor groans, and Lance smiles.

“Is this your first time?” he asks, a little more quietly.

“I… tried once myself,” Lotor mumbles back.

Inside him, Lance can feel… well, nothing like anything he’s tried feeling inside someone before. Where his ass or a girl’s cunt only has one single canal, Lance can feel several entrances inside him. One feels like a second rim, rubbery and tight. Now the other …

“What at these?” Lance asks as he caresses them, already having a pretty good idea of what they are.

“My, uhm,” Lotor’s knees are shaking, “folds. My inner folds.”

Lance holds his breath, looking up at Lotor’s face, which is starting to sweat a bit. Now that Lance thinks about it, he can feel his own sweat on his own upper lip. “Should I pull out?”

“No, go on, just… slower.”

Lance does as instructed and lets his finger grow slower as he curiously caresses Lotor’s inner folds. They feel exactly like a girl’s inner folds, only smaller and thicker and with a more noticeable texture. Lotor tightens around him, his face disappearing into the sheets and Lance worries that restricting his own breathing will make this situation feel worse for him.

“Are you sure?” Lance asks. “I won’t be disappointed if you want to stop.”

“No, it’s good,” Lotor answers. “You can push inside.”

Lance swallows nervously, and pushes his finger past the folds. The second entrance is smoother and looser than the second one, and is obviously the source of lubrication. Past Lotor’s folds, Lance fingers can feel a much tighter, much wetter canal that tightens around him as he examines its insides.

“How does it feel?” Lance asks.

“I’m not sure,” Lotor whispers back. “It tickles.”

Lance inhales deeply, his breath shaking with nervousness, and curls his finger. He flinches when Lotor makes a noise Lance’s never thought he’d hear. Something that could almost sound like a cry.

“Lotor?”

Lotor doesn’t answer, but locks his fingers around Lance’s wrist, not letting it move away.

Lance groans, and his curled finger rubs. Lotor squirms, a deep groan tearing from his throat.

“Let me…” Lance mumbles. Lotor lets go of Lance’s wrist, and Lance pulls out his finger and nudges back in with two fingers. He finds the second entrance easily this time, and Lotor gasps and jerks his hips.

“I think I’m coming – “ Lotor quickly says and Lance curls his fingers and a small moan exits Lotor’s throat before Lance can feel his come land on his own stomach.

His wrist is starting to cramp by the time Lotor’s body stops arching, and Lance gingerly pulls out his fingers. They’re shiny with lubricant, and Lotor’s hole feels a lot looser as Lance kisses his neck again.

\----

At some point, when the sun is higher on the sky and Lance’s stomach is starting to complain, they get up and shower.

Lotor seems a little tired and very distant and Lance doesn’t know whether it’s because what they did drained him emotionally or if it’s something else. He’s not quite sure what to do about it, so he just leans into him, holding him close and destroying any and all attempts at actually becoming clean.

They walk together to where they partied last night, and see a small group of people, mostly families, eating and preparing breakfast. Thilliam is among them, and stands up as soon as he sees them.

“Prince Lotor,” Thilliam greets and nods at the Galra, before he looks at Lance. “Red Paladin.”

“Good morning,” Lance greets back, and Thilliam looks confused for a second, before he starts to smile softly.

“It is,” he answers. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” Lance replies. “But you don’t have to – “

“I insist,” Thilliam interrupts. He leads them to the boiling pot, where a smiling father with a child in his lap pours up two bowls for them. “You could go watch the sunset at the beach. Most of the village is out there, some of your friends too.”

“What about you?” Lance asks.

“We’re keeping watch,” Thilliam answers. “Of the village.”

There’s something odd in his voice, something tragic in his eyes as he says it, but Lotor is already pulling him towards the beach. There’s a shortcut that goes through a cave and it takes less than three minutes and they’re at the beach.

Lance sees Allura, Shiro and Keith there. Hunk is standing at the waterline, working on something he can’t quite make out.

“Do you want to go sit with your team?” Lotor asks, giving Lance a considering look.

“No, let’s just stay here.”

The sunrise is beautiful. The star looks a little more green than Earth’s and therefore the sky is more teal than purple, but the rays of color look like careful brushstrokes. Lance can’t really focus on it though, subtly trying to observe at Lotor as he eats. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the guy look so relaxed, dressed in a navy tunic and black pants, his hair a little rumbled and cheeks still a little flushed.

“What is it?” Lotor asks, looking away from the sunrise and at Lance. Lance shouldn’t really be surprised that Lotor noticed he was being watched.

Lance shrugs “Nothing. It’s just.”

Lotor looks almost brown in the sunlight and the light really does make his eyes look like transparent amber.

“You’re perfect,” Lance whispers. “And I’m so in love with you.”

Lotor freezes, like a deer caught in the headlight and looks completely clueless of what to do. Lance laughs, and nudges him with an elbow, before leaning into him and looking at the sunrise.

“If anything ever happens to me,” Lance says, “I want you to make sure my family is okay.”

Lotor doesn’t seem surprised about the change of subject.

“The Space Mall near Qirp has a store which merchandise from Earth. He has an established route to Earth, and he can lead you to it. The coordinates on the planet are …” He tells him the memorized numbers, and when he settles into silence, Lotor wraps an arm around him and doesn’t say anything at all.

\----

It’s hilarious to see Pidge stumbls onto the beach, looking blinded with the sudden sunlight and curled in on themselves. Confused and almost disoriented, they look around and Lance can’t help but wave at them. They see him, and quickly go to his side.

“Good morning,” they greet.

“Good morning,” Lance pleasantly greets back. “You slept well?”

“Yep. Hangover?”

“Not really,” Lance says.

“I have a hangover,” Pidge groans.

Lance mock-gasps. “Pidge! You were drinking?”

“Don’t tell Shiro,” Pidge says, smiling a little. “So, Lotor. I don’t think we’ve ever talked.”

“Besides the time where you unreleased a meat-eating plant in my ship, forcing us to evacuate?” Lotor asks. “No, not really.”

“Good times,” Pidge grins. “So anyways, why are you mad at Shiro? I heard Acxa and him argue yesterday.”

Lance frowns. “You mean you don’t know?”

“What?” Pidge asks, and grabs Lance’s bowl, digging in.

“Shiro and Allura have grounded me,” Lance says.

“Oh, that,” Pidge says, completely unsurprised. “Hunk, Keith and I thought you agreed to do that. You know with the whole,” they wave their hand in Lotor’s direction, “being a traitor’s lover and all.”

“Rude,” Lotor comments.

“No, they just told me that they didn’t need me on the field,” Lance grumbles.

“Bullshit,” Pidge snorts. “We’ve all been running around while you were handing out supplies. Man, we could’ve used Red that day we had to cross a meteor shower, it was _Hell_ – “

Lance feels himself calm down as the knowledge of Pidge, Keith and Hunk’s ignorance seeps in. Pidge eats the rest of his food, gradually turning red as they burn in the sun, until they decide to go to the Castle ship and get some sunscreen.

“We’ll be leaving at sunset by the way,” Pidge says as they stand up. “Being here for too long bares the Alteans’ location. I think you, Lotor, should go talk to Shiro about that. Lance, let’s go check out what Hunk is building.”

Lotor doesn’t nod, but he does get up and brush sand off his clothes. Lance smiles at him, before leaning in to kiss his cheek. Lotor waves before leaving and Lance catches up with Pidge who is already walking towards Hunk.

When Lance comes closer, he realizes that his best friend is truly the best, because on the sand lie two surf boards.

“Buddy!” Lance shrieks and throws his arms around Hunk’s neck. “You’re the best!”

Hunk smiles crookedly at him. “I’m not quite sure about their balance just yet, but I figure we’re going to test it. Have you talked with Shiro?”

“That can wait,” Lance says, and picks one of the surfboards up, and looking up at the waves. The wave height is a little much but doable, and the swell direction look somewhat acceptable. “Oh my god, it’s been years since I surfed.”

“Yeah, me too,” Hunk says. “Let’s go easy, okay?”

Lance nods, intending to do no such thing.

“Guys, I think you should ask Thilliam first,” Pidge nervously says. “We don’t know what’s in that water.”

“Reefs, mostly,” Hunk answers. “I already asked. The Alteans apparently don’t like deep water and the locals aren’t made for swimming, so they don’t fish a lot, but at least there aren’t any big creatures on the shallow waters.”

That’s all Lance needs to hear before lifting up the surfing board. If it had been any other hand-made surfing board Lance would’ve been nervous, since the build of a board meant a lot, but Hunk has made surfing boards before, made three Lance knows of and sent them Lance’s family, and they told him that Hunk made them even better than most companies did.

They quickly undress down to their boxers, and he hears Shiro shout at them to be careful. They assure him before running out to the water. The sand feels like slime underneath their feet as they drag their feet through the water, until it’s deep enough to lay themselves on the board and paddle out to the greater waves, easily avoiding slipping off.

“Hey, Lance,” Hunk says, the sounds of the water rush and waves collapsing loud around them, making Lance’s heartbeat quicken, adrenaline excite his body. As his senses become sharper, his body becomes attuned to the motion of the water, the strength of the currents. “Let’s start out slowly until we get a feel of the water, yeah? Before pipelining at least.”

“Sure,” Lance replies.

Hunk follows closely behind, and he hears the excited whispers of the village as they swim further away. The waves grow bigger, and wordlessly they decide to simply ride.

As Lance expected, the surfboard is perfect, and he grabs onto it as the water starts to raise them up. Briefly it engulfs him, the power of it trying to make him lose hold of the surfboard.

But Lance has never been calmer. He opens his eyes, his pupils automatically shrinking, as he looks for Hunk.

He can see his figure ten meters away, his body soft and relaxed in the powerful push and pull of the sea. Everything moves in slow motion, and the wave lights up in bright azure as it rises alone towards the sky.

And then it falls, and Lance and Hunk come up to the surface again.

Hunk whoops and Lance can’t stop laughing.

“This is great!” Lance yells.

Hunk grins, and as the next waves come, they shoot each other a look. They’re going to pipeline.

“Are you ready?” Lance yells, and they both jump onto their boards when the water raises them to the peak of the wave. Lance jumps onto the board with both feet, and as he starts to the dip, the water rolls over him.

The water is a watercolor of light and blue swirling over their bodies, and Lance can’t help but be awed. He can hear Hunk shout in joy behind him, and they’re racing to the end of the wave, when he hears a muffled shout. He looks over his shoulder, and can’t see Hunk.

He gets to the end of the wave, and immediately sits down on the board, looking around.

“Hunk?” he calls, and thinks he can see Hunk’s shadow underneath the water deep down. “Hunk?”

He can hear Shiro shout at the beach, and Lance jumps off the board and dives towards the shadow, only to realize that it’s floating seaweed.

He swims back up the surface, and looks around, panic starting to swell in his chest.

“Lance!” he hears behind him, and he sees Hunk further away in the water, easily keeping himself afloat.

The surfboards float away as Lance swims towards him.

\----

When they reach the coastline, Hunk is trembling and Shiro needs to ask him to sit down. Lance goes to hold Hunk’s hand, warm and pruned in his.

“I got caught in the washing machine and panicked,” Hunk says. “It’s cool, I was too rusty to pipeline.”

Lance can’t help but feel helpless about the sadness in Hunk’s voice, because this happened to even the most experienced surfers and they weren’t even that experienced. That Hunk was only seconds away from completing a pipeline was something he should proud of.

The villagers offer Hunk something warm to drink, and Lance sits with him for an hour, before what could’ve drowned his friend calls to him again.

He has to. He doesn’t know when he will get the chance again.

The surfboards have been washed up on the shore, and Lance runs towards them and picks his own up.

“Lance,” Shiro calls. “Hunk just fell off.”

“But I didn’t,” Lance answers and gets on the board.

“Lance!” Shiro snaps, something warning in voice.

“What?” Lance shouts back.

“It’s an order,” Shiro calls back.

Lance glares at him, unable to swim away, but too stubborn to just do what Shiro tells him to. “Why?” Lance asks. “We’re not on the field. Who are you to stop me?”

Shiro’s eyes turn sharp, and Lance hates when Shiro becomes all edges and bear traps like this, but he’s too angry to let himself cower.

“It’s dangerous,” Shiro says.

“It’s worse on Earth,” Lance replies.

“Lance!” Allura is running towards them, looking furious.

“Princess,” Lance drawls back.

“Get off that board, right now,” Allura snaps.

Lance’s stomach cramps as fear of their anger almost overpowers his anger. But only almost.

“Why?” Lance shouts back. “Why do you want to control me so bad?”

“It’s dangerous, I said,” Shiro exclaims.

“You’re dangerous!” Lance yells. “This job is dangerous, and you can’t force me and I ain’t gon’ listen to you, Shiro!”

He swims away.

\----

Lance surfs all day, and doesn’t return to the beach even when he’s thirsty and tired. The sun bakes down on him, his head is throbbing with dehydration, but he doesn’t fall once. A fair amount of the village stays on the beach, and Hunk is helping them construct tools to easier catch fish with, but Shiro and Allura leave.

It’s only when the sun starts to set that Lance swims to the coast again. His arms and legs are aching, and as soon as the ground is no longer moving underneath him, he falls on top of it. The sand is warm underneath his back, and the air is starting to cool. He hopes his boxers gets to dry before the sun goes down, since he didn't bring a towel. 

God. If he could go home just for one day. To hear his mother’s laughter, or to surf with his sister or to hear his father type on the ancient keyboard in the annoying way he always does.

He closes his eyes and spreads his arms and legs. Once in a while, he feels the water nip at his toes, lukewarm and so right.

“I don’t think I’ve seen Shiro so mad since Slav’s rescue mission,” he hears Hunk says, feeling the guy’s heavy footsteps coming towards him. “But I think he’s cooled down a little bit if you want to talk to him.”

“I’m not apologizing,” Lance tiredly answers.

“I never said you had to,” Hunk replies. “I understand why you’re upset.”

Lance exhales, closing his eyes. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” Hunk confirms. “Pidge told me that you didn’t know they were grounding you. I’d be upset too.”

Lance turns his head and smiles tiredly at Hunk. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Still a little shaken,” Hunk replies. “But alright, I guess. It was definitely worth it.”

“Yeah.” Lance stares at the wave, beautiful and powerful. “It was.”

\----

When he’s back at the village, the rest of the Paladins are already in their armors. He avoids their eyes like a kicked dog, and goes to Lotor’s cottage to get in his armor.

Lotor is laying on the mattress, fully armored, and only turns his head to look at Lance as he walks past him to the bathroom.

It’s nice to get the scent of water off his body in some way. It’s clearing his head, and the taste of longing for home on his tongue fades a little bit. He quickly dries off, knowing Allura will have his head if he takes too long, and goes to the bedroom.

Lotor looks at him as he steps in, and Lance can’t resist falling on top of him. Lotor’s armor is cold underneath Lance’s bare skin, but that isn’t something Lance isn’t already used to.

“Where you’re gonna go now?” Lance asks when Lotor lifts his gloved hand and starts stroking Lance’s back.

“You’re going to give us a ride out of the galaxy and drop us off where our signal won’t seem suspicious,” Lotor tells him, and Lance sighs, pressing his lips onto Lotor’s jaw.

“I love you,” Lance mumbles, before standing up and gathering his armor pieces. He can see that Lotor cleaned and polished them, and he doesn’t miss the way Lotor looks at him appreciatively as he slides on the under armor. By the time Lance clicks his belt in place, Lotor has gotten up.

He easily wraps his arms around Lance’s waist, and Lance takes Lotor’s hands in his, automatically tilting his head and baring his neck. Lotor presses his lips into the paper thin skin, inhaling deeply and Lance can feel his hands squeeze Lotor’s tighter.

“What are you thinking about?” Lotor whispers.

Lance blinks. “If this is the last time I see you,” he whispers back.

Lotor frowns and closes his eyes. “That sort of thinking is dangerous.”

Lance turns, and finds a smile on the lowest shelf. “I’m a dangerous guy. Come on, let’s go.”

The walk back to the camp distant, and the Generals are already waiting there.

He smiles. “Narti! Long time no see.”

She doesn’t answer.

“Aw, was it because of the water?” he asks, and nudges her with an elbow.

If she had eyes, Lance thinks she would’ve rolled them, but for now she only crosses her arms.

\----

They take off in silence. Shiro is standing besides Allura, arms crossed and hard glance directed at space and Lance is sprawling at his control station.

It’s all very tense, until Keith sighs in clear agitation. “Are the two of you going to talk or what?”

Lance turns his head away and pretends he wasn’t talked to. He’s _not_ going to be the one who’s going to try and solve this problem, when Shiro was the one who started it.

He can tell that Shiro is glaring at him, and Lance ignores him.

“We can start talking about why Lance was grounded in the first place?” Pidge hopefully suggests.

Shiro looks like he isn’t going to say anything for a second before he sighs. He looks… tired as he slumps and rubs his brows. “An assassin squad has been sent out for Lance’s capture. They were the one who prevented my escape attempts and captured me when I succeeded.”

“Yikes,” Pidge says, making a face.

“So why couldn’t you just tell me that small missions weren’t worth my capture?” Lance asks. “Do I look like a child to you?”

“Do I need to remind you that you had an affair with Lotor until that blew up in your face?” Shiro asks.

The response shocks Lance enough for him to turn quiet for a moment. But only for a moment. “We’ve been over this,” Lance says, slowly narrowing his eyes. “And I was honest throughout the whole thing. I’ve taken responsibility for my actions, and all I’m asking you is to take responsibility for yours. _That means you too, Allura_.”

She turns her head, and looks at him, surprised.

He waits for a moment, feeling himself getting wired up, but they’re just looking at him. Waiting for him to have an outburst, to say something stupid.

“To your information, I’ve previously offered Keith to give up my position as a Paladin,” he says instead, trying to sound as cool as possible. “So Allura could keep Blue and you could reunite with Black. I _know_ I’m the most useless of us. I’m not afraid to admit that.”

“We never said that,” Shiro says, but Allura actually just looks shocked.

Lance sighs. “Just remember that I choose to follow you.”

“What the Hell is that supposed to mean?” Keith interrupts.

Shiro’s brows jump, but Lance’s stomach is already clenching, jittery with nerves.

“I’m gonna go say goodbye to Lotor, he’s waiting for me at the hangar,” Lance says.

\-----

He’s walking through the hall of the Castle as it does a wormhole jump. The only way he can tell is because the ship shakes a little bit, before suddenly stilling as it loses speed. He can hear the sounds of the Generals talking, Ezor’s shrill laugh and Zethrid’s loud voice.

He turns around the corner and time stands still. He can’t tell how he knows, he just knows that time stops and he’s caught in a moment that could span endlessly if he wanted. He turns around the corner and sees.

And sees.

Himself.

“Water never dies,” his reflection says. “It only changes.”

But… that’s not right. It isn’t wearing the armor he’s wearing, it’s not…

The reflection’s hair is longer, and it’s wearing a white shirt and pants, both way too big for him, and a robe thrown on top.

“What?” Lance says.

The reflection stares back at him. Its cheekbones are sharp, cheeks sunken in and the eyes… god, Lance can’t look at them. They look so much like his own, but they’re transparent and where his are merely flesh, these seem like glass. There are no bottom to them, no materiality. They continue endlessly.

But otherwise the other… the other him looks exactly like him.

“What…?” he asks.

He feels electricity course through him, and everything becomes black.


	18. Quintessence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Death is here,” Lance whispers. “And this time you will not escape.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna try to keep these chapters coming as quickly as possible since a lot of action will be going on these following chapters :D 
> 
> Also, i'm sure there are many editing mistakes, go ahead and let me know of the ones you catch ^^

When Lance wakes up, his body is aching and he kind of wants to die. He’s also awfully cold, so cold his limbs are too stiff to move.

He blinks his eyes open. The lighting is low and purple, and as he exhales, small clouds of mist form outside his mouth. He tries to raise his head, but realizes to his horror that his head won’t budge. He struggles in vain for endless moments, even when the realization of his neck’s inability to move surges.

His heart stops in his chest, before it gallops. He struggles to get up, but to his horror it’s not only his head that’s stuck to the table but his entire body. His toes and fingers feel numb inside his boots and gloves. His breathing quickens as panic fills him, but nobody can hear his whimpers.

\-----

He doesn’t know how long he lies there, trying not to provoke another panic attack seeing as the first one genuinely made him think he was going to die. His face is going numb with the cold as his thoughts come and go as quickly as Red flies the skies. He tries to call out for her, and he hears her quiet torment in return. She sounds so far, far away that he knows she won’t be able to track him. He’s been counting the dots on the ceiling, always losing count when the panic comes back and fights his calm for control. The table he’s lying on is hollow on his back, and even though he’s in his armor, which is monitoring and adjusting to his body temperature, he feels bare there.

\-----

He pees in his pants.

\----

He feels like it’s been days by the time the doors open. The footsteps are heavy and quiet, and Lance tries to look to his side to now avail.

The pressure that’s keeping him glued to the table suddenly lets off, and he sits up, only to immediately be grabbed and dragged unto his feet. It all becomes black for a second, blood rushing to his brain too soon and too much.

By the time his vision is starting to come back in patches, he realizes he’s being carried.

He turns his head, and sees something that could almost look like a Galra, but very much isn’t. Its skin is black and has an almost charred texture, and cracks run all over its body, glowing in orange and gold. It takes a second for Lance to realize, but once he does he knows what has happened.

These people have to be the Shadows. They must once have been Galra, but have probably been mutilated and changed in Haggar’s hands.

“Where are we going?” he asks, his voice husky with thirst.

They don’t answer, but his sensors are telling him that their skin is becoming hot against his armor. He’s dragged through several empty halls, until their reach what looks like an old bathhouse, only it’s gross and full of purple fur. It’s lit up with dim orange lights. The Shadows don’t even stop, they just throw Lance into the wall. Before he can try to get up, his wrist is locked unto the wall and the Shadows surround him, making him shout out as he tries to defend himself by attacking, but they hold onto every limb and starts to rip off his armor pieces.

He screams until his voice turns hoarse and fights despite their number and strength, but they’re strong and once his under armor is off, he realizes that their touches burn and so he has to stop struggling to avoid getting further hurt. If he gets a third degree burning, it could lead to infection and he isn’t in reach of antibiotics. The Garrison taught him that much.

When he’s naked they pull back, and Lance inhales with relief, as his vision is no longer covered with their black and glowing figures. They hose him down and he avoids cursing at them and tries to make use of the water to clean the burns he did gain.

The ice-cold water stops, and once he realizes that the Shadows aren’t making any moves and are only watching him he curls in on himself. The water was bruising against his skin, but the air makes him feel even more naked than before. He looks up when he doesn’t hear or feel them move after what feels like minutes, only to see one of them with a metal case in its hand, another holding a huge syringe.

“What’s that?” Lance asks and they pop on a needle, that’s as thick as uncooked spaghetti. “You’re not gonna use that on me, are you? Wait, stop, stop, stop –“

Despite all the vaccines Garrison regularly put them through, Lance hasn’t overcome his terror of needles and this needle in particular looks like something out of nightmare.

They tackle him, and he falls face first onto the floor. The stone chafes his face and shoulders, his knuckles burning and nails breaking as he tries to stand up, but they press him down. A knee lands between his shoulder blades and it presses hard and he can’t _breathe_.

The syringe plunges into his spine in the small of his back, and he tries to scream but there’s no air in his lungs. The needle burns and he can feel his head throb and he tries –

\----

He wakes up back on the table. This is starting to get real old real fast.

\----

After what feels like days, the torture is becoming routine. Most of the time, he’s left to rot on a table, dressed in clothes too thin. Sometimes, druids come in and poke him, but they never hurt him. Every day (he thinks) he’s dragged to the showers and hosed down. They inject him after every shower.

But then they start to inject him when he wakes up on the table too. The small of his back is starting to feel inflamed, and so they start to do it in different vertebras. By the time he’s receiving three injections per day, they’ve started to inject him in his cervical vertebrae, which scares him shitless. For one, if the Shadows make one wrong move or he does, it’s over. His neck will break or he’ll become paralyzed. And for two: Every time they do it in his neck, his brain seems to shut down. Like his head is full of electricity and it just suddenly disappears.

The days melt together. He feels numb, mostly. Like the world doesn’t matter anymore. It’s not like he _wants_ to be there, it’s just that hating being there doesn’t matter anymore.

He… just withdraws. Pulls further and further into his own head, but not in a conscious way. Not in a way he remembers. He’s not really thinking. Sometimes it even feels like he’s not even there. He still feels, but just much more sporadically, in a way outside of his control and outside of his understanding.

\----

One day, after having listened to the echo of the doors slamming shut behind the Shadows, he hears a voice whisper: “Hey.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t think he actually heard it. The noises in his head are starting to become difficult to make out from the ones in reality.

But then he feels a hand take his and he flinches and cries out. Not because the touch hurts, but because it doesn’t. It has gentleness in it.

“It’s me, Lance. Ezor,” the voice continues to whisper and Lance tries to turn his head but he can’t.

“I’m sorry, I can’t show myself to you,” Ezor apologizes. “I’ve spent 3 hours in a cooler just to not show up on their heat scans, and if I show myself to you now…”

He blinks quickly and tries to nod his head, but he’s shaking.

“Listen, I can’t do anything right now, but I just want to say, we’re coming for you.” Her voice is shaking. “You’re not alone.”

“Ez…” His voice chokes off. He doesn’t remember the last time he tried to form words.

“Oh no, what have they done to you?” Ezor whispers. “Take a deep breath, Lance. Explain me what they want to do with you. They’re clearly not torturing you, just letting you rot in here.”

He shakes his head in confusion. “I… don’t know…” he whispers. “My back… they’re…”

He thinks he can hear her crawl along the floor, and then feels her soft touch on his back. She strokes his track marks, and he whimpers softly, the marks so sensitive it jolts his entire body.

“For the love of Galra,” she whispers, before she crawls out again. “What have they been injecting you with?”

He shakes his head. “I … don’t know… my head is hazy…”

“Something to keep you docile, maybe?” she guesses. “Alright, Shiro told me to do this, just calm down and stay still.”

She takes his pulse, and waits for a moment, before she starts counting. After that, she starts pulling at his arms and legs, testing how mobile his muscles are.

“You have starting pressure ulcers,” she tells him after a moment. “I’m sorry, Lance, I have to leave now since my body temperature is rising, but you have to stay awake and be ready for escape at any time, okay?”

He blinks quickly in her direction. “Ezor…” he weakly calls out. “My…”

Something beeps.

“I have to go,” she whispers when he doesn’t continue. “Lotor is planning everything, we’ll get you out of here.”

“Ezor,” he says, this time stronger. “My… my family… remind him of my family. He promised.”

He feels her hand on his again, before she lets go. He doesn’t hear her walk away.

\----

The following day he receives five shots.

\----

When Lance wakes up he’s somewhere different. This room is full of equipment, the light is stronger and the table feels like concrete underneath him. He’s been a Paladin for far too long to not know where he is.

Torture would almost be kinder than ending directly on the druids’ table.

He lies there for he doesn’t know how long and all feelings pass through him like sudden floods. One moment he’s happy about things finally coming to an end, the next he feels intense dread about what’s going to happen. The third flood is filled with regret about all the things he didn’t get to do, and the fourth, well. He’s content. Not happy, but satisfied about everything he got to accomplish.

He tries to remember every face which ever said thanks, tries to remember their voices as they said it. The way they felt safe around him.

The last feeling is hope and it ends up staying with him. He accomplished so much, helped so many people. They might kill him, but the Galra will never be able to stop Voltron, and will never be able to stop the movement against their regime.

Red has long since gotten used to loss. Lance hopes she finds a Paladin as great as Keith was to her. He hopes that one day Shiro will start to feel safe again. Hopes Keith finds a place he can call home. He hopes Pidge gets to reunite with their family. He hopes Allura and Coran become happy. He hopes Hunk never forgets how to love, as hard as it is for him to remember sometimes.

He hopes Lotor forgets. He always thought heroes in the movies were unrealistically inhumane to be so pure about leaving people behind, but as he sweats and cries, he truly hopes from the bottom of his heart, that Lotor forgets him. That Lotor doesn’t let Lance’s death make his skin even harder. That Lotor gets to love again.

And so he doesn’t flinch when doors are opened behind him.

“You’re awake,” Haggar’s voice notices.

“What are you going to do to me?” Lance asks. He really hopes she doesn’t say Robeast. The thought of hurting his team crushes him.

“Exploring your full potential,” Haggar answers and suddenly she’s at his side, looking down at him with glowing purple eyes.

She leaves as quickly as she appeared.

“I consider myself to know everything about quintessence,” she goes on. “Particularly the quintessences, which compose Voltron. I’ve tried to crack the mystery that is Voltron for years, to find a way to reverse engineer it. There’s only so much I can do without that comet Lotor ended up stealing though.”

He swallows.

“The quintessence of earth is an old friend. After all, it was so finely mended into the dark quintessence on Daibazaal. I make my monsters out of earth quintessence. To make them strong and loyal.”

Right. Quintessence. Something all being had, Allura in particular. It was through their quintessence that Allura could match the Paladins with their Lions. Apparently Lance’s quintessence had mirrored Blue’s, and Red’s with Keith and so on.

“Quintessence of the forest, I use to keep my people alive. Too keep them fertile, and growing. Without it, many sicknesses would’ve killed them. They wouldn’t have grown their fur to protect them from the coldness of space. They wouldn’t have developed eyes that see into the deepest of darkness.”

Lance blinks quickly. So the quintessence that powered Green were used in the breeding camps? For evolutionary mutations?

“Quintessence of the sky, I use to keep my emperor strong of course. Keep him powerful and almighty. Without it, he can’t connect to the quintessences of the Black Lion. Without it, his sanity would’ve been lost forever. The quintessence of the Black Lion is what has kept him from withering away.”

The table is becoming hot underneath his body.

“Fire. Fire is a little trickier. Whimsical. I made the force of Shadows with fire, ironically. They’re unstable, but the best creatures I’ve ever given birth to.”

He feels nauseous.

“Water quintessence, I only ever used to keep my force of Shadows suppressed. It’s a weak element. I always thought that. Had no other strength but its versatility and it’s ability to supplement almost all quintessences, but it was never useful on its own.”

Lance sniffs, wanting to block out her words.

“When Lotor picked you as his mate, it infuriated me. He obviously made the wrong choice of picking a Paladin. And it must’ve been a intentional choice. He’s as sensitive to quintessence as any Altean, despite his lack of ability to contain or produce it. Surely, he would’ve picked something else, someone stronger. What could’ve enticed him so?”

The bench he’s strapped unto suddenly rises.

“I guess it’s for us find out.”

\-----

Lance’s mother harshly rubs sunscreen unto his dry back. He’s been in the water all day, and he must’ve tanned a lot quicker than he expected for his mother to be so adamant about the sunscreen.

The sun is slowly baking their bodies, the sand itches on his damp legs and the salt left from the water makes his skin feel clammy and dry. His hair is curling with it, and while Lance never noticed these sensations before, they contributed to how it felt like to be on the beach with the family.

“I just don’t understand why it has to be astronaut,” his mother grumbles. “What about swimming, Lance?”

He snorts. “What can I use swimming for, mama?”

“Make lots of money?” she says. “Not die in the cold solitude of space?”

He shrugs. “It’s just as likely for me to become an astronaut to compete at the Olympics. What’s so great about being in the water all the time anyway?”

\-----

Lance doesn’t remember the rest of that night with Haggar, or the following night either. All he feels is the quintessence, which is pumped into his body, pure and blue and liquid. He screams when the burning starts, staring at the ceiling as it is bathed in blue light. His skin starts to glow as it is dyed blue. Haggar dyed him blue, he is dyed blue by Haggar, and he knows that the dye will tint his skin forever. He knows that dye doesn’t just come off clothes like that, and for a moment he thinks he sees or hears or feels the previous Paladin, how his skin was also blue or perhaps it was dyed like his, dyed like he is being dyed right now, like he is dying right now, die, dying, he doesn’t want to _die_ -

\----

“Rude,” mama huffs and slaps his shoulder and he squints over his shoulder at her in indignation. “You’re a swimmer. You should know. First of all, water, never dies, only changes. Sand can become glass, but can glass become sand again on it’s own? Can you truly reverse that change? If a branch falls it nourishes the earth, but is it the same branch that grows back again?”

\----

Lotor doesn’t have to search long. Once he realizes that Lance isn’t coming to bid him farewell, he immediately alarms Voltron’s leader. They start a search and find his helmet in a hallway, and it’s the tiny Green Paladin that brings up the footage.

The footage shows the Shadow invade the ship as soon as it finished the wormhole jump, as if they knew where and when the Castle would be coming. They sneak through the hallways and snatched Lance right under their noses, disappeared right as the alarm started. It all happened within minutes. The Shadows are known to be quick.

Once Lotor has seen the footage, he doesn’t break anything. He takes the helmet from Shiro’s hand, and his own aren’t shaking. This was always supposed to happen. Somewhere, Lotor knows he’s been preparing for this day.

In the end, it’s his own entire fault. He’s been waiting – no cowering, for far too long. Always hiding in the shadows, always looking out for his own life. And it brought him this: Haggar and Zarkon consciously taking his mate.

“I guess it’s an appropriate time for me to fight back,” he says to the helmet.

And his body slumps in relief, as if it has been waiting forever to hear those words. He’s wanted to break free for so long, to truly grasp the starlight and the water for himself. He never allowed himself to, always thought it too dangerous, never daring to make a move.

“We’re by your side,” Acxa says and puts her hand on his shoulder.

“It’s better for you to go back to the Empire, save your names while you can,” Lotor says, making it a command.

But they stay standing by his side.

\----

“Water always escapes,” his mother continues, and Lance rolls his eyes but where she can’t see. “Water can be reconstructed, can do anything to survive and yet stay the same.”

“But I’m not water,” Lance drawls. “I’m a swimmer, and you read too much poetry.”

“One day you’ll see,” she says. “The water gave you to me. And no matter how fascinated you are with the sky and the fire, this is your home. This is who you are.”

\----

There are three things Lance knows:

  1. He’s hella handsome.
  2. His mother’s eyes are as blue as the sea on Varadero Beach.
  3. He’s going to die tonight.



\----

But water never dies, does it? It just changes.

\----

“How could I have been so blind?” Haggar asks.

He’s there, looking at her. Looking at his body. He’s there, and he’s everywhere. He’s nowhere. He’s standing besides her, looking down at his own body. He’s back in the Castle ship, watching Lotor look at the ceiling with eyes that are too used to loss, eyes that look like infected wounds. He’s back on Earth with his mother, watching her watch her nieces and nephews. She’s looks older. She looks tired.

He reaches out for his mother, and she turns, blinking hard at him. Her eyes mirror the water behind her. Her body is sun kissed, clammy, and ashy with sun protection.

“Lance?” she calls out.

She doesn’t hear him when he says: “Yes, mama?”

But she slowly closes her eyes, and tilts her head as if listening. When he puts his hand on her shoulder, two tears slip out of her closed eyes.

“Are you here?” she whispers.

\----

Blue is looking at him, her eyes glowing. They’re standing in the hangar.

“I was always yours, wasn’t I?” he asks, and wraps his arms around her paw, barely being able to embrace her body. He embraces her again, and she’s tiny in his arms, small like a kitten, bigger than a Lion –

\----

His mother looks harshly at Lotor. The sun is strong outside, but the kitchen window’s curtains have been closed, the doors locked. The teakettle is boiling on the stove, and the scratch Lance made with his keys once is still on the kitchen table’s leg.

Lance knows, that his mother had a bit of a heart attack, when she found Lotor sitting in her kitchen, but seeing the alien made so much more sense that believing her son is dead. Thing is, she can still see him when she watches surfers ride the waves, still hear his singing from the bathroom when the shower is on, still hear the creaks of the bed as he turns in his sleep. Her family thinks her crazy for saying that, thinks she isn’t letting go of him, and is only sabotaging her recovery though there’s no recovery to ever make, there’s no body and if someone is a ghost haunting these grounds, it’s _her_ –

\----

“There’s no thing as entirely changing one’s individual quintessence,” Allura says. “We can switch, solely because the Lions are flexible. But you’re born with a certain quintessence, which I mentioned, mirrors your original Lion’s. I’m able to pilot Blue, because of my personal quest matches hers, because I, quintessence-wise do fall into Blue’s category, but – “

\----

He never changed. He always changed.

\-----

“My son is safe?” his mother asks.

Lotor can’t meet her eyes. “He’s sleeping.”

\----

He feels nothing and feels everything and feels it at the same time –

\----

Space and time have always been fluid, Haggar realizes. How could she not have seen it before now?

“What do you see Blue Paladin?” she asks, and Lance’s eyes are open and he’s glowing, a blue radioactive boy. “What is the future?”

He looks at her, and he doesn’t know if he is or his body is –

“Death is here,” Lance whispers. “And this time you will not escape.”

\----

Lotor’s skin is pressing into his. Cold and soft. His lover’s breath feels damp and quick against Lance’s bruised and bitten neck. Lance’s arms are draped around Lotor’s back, but they feel loose, too relaxed compared to the aggressive way Lotor is thrusting into him. His legs are sore and tense.

It’s so quiet in their room.

None of them moan, only breathe. Lance can hear the rain outside, the faint rumble of thunder. He can feel the blood that rushes through Lotor’s veins, blood that drugs Lance worse than any alcohol. Making him dizzy. Lotor’s breathing is shaky. Lance thinks his lover is going to break. But Lance is calm.

Lotor is a creature of loss. A creature with skin that smells of salt. There’s a thirst inside him, or perhaps the downright opposite. They’re all alone, and they’re not alone. Not like they used to be.

There are ghosts in this room, monsters hiding underneath their bed. Lance can smell his own precum, hear the slippery sound when Lotor pushes in. The ceiling is dripping with sweat. The walls are writhing with butterflies. Lance can taste Lotor’s blood on his tongue; can feel Lotor’s soul underneath his fingernails.

Lotor is a hurricane rattling and beating the sea, and Lance can only shake with the violence underneath him. Flowers grow from Lance’s pores. Lotor’s eyes are rivers of tears.

Lotor bows his head, and bites Lance again. Lance’s too weak to make a sound, but his fingernails drag down Lotor’s back. Lotor sucks his skin into his mouth, hungry, always so hungry.

He bows down further, sucks Lance’s nipple into his mouth, playing with the skin in-between his teeth. Lance is afraid he will bite down, and chew and swallow. Lance is afraid Lotor will like the taste. Lance is afraid of the wolf.

\-----

He’s standing in the Castle. His feet are light on the floor, and it all feels so real he can barely believe it.

He’s disoriented, not quite sure where his room is, but he knows where the Bridge is. He could find it anytime.

Suddenly he’s on the Bridge.

Allura and Shiro are standing there, and he stumbles towards them.

“Shiro,” he calls out. He stands up, not quite sure when he fell. “Allura!”

They don’t react.

“Help me!” he screams, and they jump and turn around.

“Lance?” Allura is the first to immediately say, running over to him.

“Help me,” he whispers, grasping her hands in his. “Help me, the Shadows have me, I am melting – “

“Slow down, calm down, what are you talking about?” she asks, quickly grasping his face and locking her gaze with his. “You’re in your room with Lotor.”

“No,” Lance whispers. “I’m not. They captured me. Shiro!”

Shiro, who’s standing behind her with wide eyes, hasn’t moved.

“They’re melting me,” Lance whimpers. “I’m disintegrating, when will you come – “

Allura jumps up, and activates the Bridge. Immediately a picture of Lotor’s chamber shows up. Lotor is sleeping on the bed, his hair a wash of foam on the pillow, and very clearly besides him, lies Lance. Sleeping soundly.

“What?” Lance says. “That’s me. Please, that’s not where I am – “

\-----

When he is.

\-----

He’s riding a wave, his feet steady on the board. But something is wrong. The water isn’t blue. The water isn’t water. He’s too slow. The rush of white falls over him.

Underneath the water, Blue is undulating. Her eyes are glowing, and he feels his bond with her strengthen as she reaches out for him.

He won’t drown. She won’t let him.

\-----

He runs out of the Bridge, desperate to reach Lotor’s chamber. The walls are melting around him, the floor becomes as slippery as mud, making him fall time and time again.

But in the end he isn’t the one who reaches his destination.

He sees himself walk through the hallway, steps a little quick and eyes stormy.

Lance stares at him in shock, and the figure freezes.

And he suddenly understands everything, and he knows there’s nothing he can do.

Water is fluid, and its quintessence is something that can never be truly grasped.

And that gives him no control.

He feebly attempts to warn himself: “Water never dies – “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... i bet y'all thought this chapter would bring you closure, and well it did, in the most confusing way possible. Lance's POV is strongly disfigured because of the way his body is injected with quintessence, but there are plenty of hints and vague explanations for what's going on and what might've been going on in previous chapters or what will happen. 
> 
> Be sure to let me know what you think of it so far, I know it's probably not that satisfying to read C:
> 
> EDIT: FRIENDS NO WORRIES things will be explained next chapter :D


	19. My love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He should be in the east wing,” Ezor reports, sounding slightly out of breath.
> 
> “Copy,” Shiro replies. “We’re right behind you, do no engage before we’re within range.”
> 
> “Copy what?” Ezor asks. “Zarkon have mercy, Lotor is going in – “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As said, I loved hearing you guys' theories about the latest chap, and i'm so pleased by how many of my clues you all picked up. This chap should cover the basics, but let me know if you have questions towards the whole thing. If you don't think it's been explained well enough, rest assured that you can let me know :)

“What do you mean his eyes were weird?” Pidge asks for the fourth time, their face determined on the hologram screen.

Hunk, for once, doesn’t look anxious but like he’s ready to make some very drastic decisions, an expression that looks foreign on his face and would look a lot more familiar on Keith’s. Allura seems wary and tired, something tight around her eyes. Keith who’s back in the Red Lion has been threatening to fly ahead several times and it’s only what Hunk calls ‘Shiro’s Command Voice’, which has gotten him back in line.

Shiro looks over his shoulder. Ezor, Lotor and Narti are leaning against the wall of Black’s pilot room. Since Lance had gone missing, Lotor has been quite distant, even a little indifferent, while his Generals have been displaying an agitated and tense behavior. Privately, Shiro suspected that the Prince’s calm was only a mask and that his Generals were reflecting his true mood. A hours ago, Shiro’s suspicions had been proved true. In the middle of their intelligence mission, Lotor had decided to massacre an entire base. Shiro and Allura had been occupied interrogating the general of the troop, Keith, Hunk and Pidge were guarding the base and keeping an eye out for backup troops. Lotor and his Generals were supposed to keep an eye on the hostages.

When Shiro and Allura had extracted Lance’s location out of the general, the room in which the soldiers had been kept had been painted with the dark color of Galra blood and Narti and Ezor had been sent away. Allura had been infuriated with the Prince’s lack of mercy, but Shiro had stopped her from throwing a tantrum. He recognized a wild animal when he saw one, and when Lotor had looked up at them, his sword, face and clothed splattered with blood?

Shiro had pulled Allura away and left Lotor to gain his bearings.

Once cleaned up, Lotor had claimed that he was only making an example of them. Making sure that the Empire knew what would happen to them if they intervened or tried to threaten his mate again. But Shiro damn right knew that Lotor had just been thirsty for blood, for revenge.

Too bad Shiro’s own guilt overshadowed his judgment.

Ezor, whom the question had been aimed at, stands stiffly with her arms crossed, wearing an annoyed expression on her face. “I can’t explain it,” she answers for the fourth time. “Like I already said. They were almost… transparent. Like when we reached the Alteans’ planet and we looked into the water and we couldn’t see how deep it was.”

Shiro’s hands tighten on the steering gear. “You heard that Allura?”

“I did,” Allura says, nodding tightly. “It is as I thought.”

“What?” Ezor asks. “What is it?”

“We knew this would happen.” Allura’s voice is daring. “The day before Lotor told us that the Shadows would be targeting Lance, Lance… came to us. Despite him being with Lotor.”

At that, Lotor looks up at them, his eyes sharp.

“That’s…” Pidge rubs their wrinkled nose. “You mean you had a vision?”

“No, he just… appeared on the Bridge,” Allura says. “The Castle’s monitors picked up on a strong invasion of Quintessence. I got up to investigate, and when it only grew stronger, I called Shiro. We were trying to identify the force, when he was suddenly standing behind us. He was… blue and glowing.”

“He was a doppelgänger,” Shiro says.

“Now, Shiro,” Allura says a little sharply, like they’ve had this argument before.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hunk exclaims. “You better not be implying what I think you are.”

Lotor, who’s been eerily silent for the whole ride, catches Shiro’s gaze. “Is that supposed to mean something in particular?” he asks.

Shiro purses his lips. It’s Pidge who answers: “On Earth there’s a myth that says that if you see a person’s doppelgänger, that person will die soon.”

“It’s nonsense,” Hunk immediately lets them know. “Lance isn’t dead, Blue said he was still here.“

“Continue,” Lotor commands Shiro. “What did he do? What did he say?”

Shiro clears his throat. “He said that the Shadows had him, that he was captured. He kept saying that he was melting, and asked us when we’d come to save him.”

“I showed him the security footage of Lotor’s chamber, and he was there, sleeping by Lotor’s side,” Allura continues. “When he saw this, he got confused. Said that’s not where he was and then he suddenly flickered away.”

“The morning after, you told us that the Shadows were most likely going to target Lance,” Shiro continues.

“Alright, that’s really weird,” Pidge says. “Someone should call Slav and ask him about quantum theory or something.”

\----

“Well, we’re down to three possibilities,” Slav says as he cuddles his blanket. He’s with the Olkari and Shiro knows they must be treating him well for him to be so relaxed on camera. “In over two thousand universes, the Red Paladin is doing interdimensional travel and he isn’t aware that he is doing so – and so becoming confused when he sees himself. In 561 universes, he’s a time traveller, going back to warn you of his capture. And in over 30 universes the human myth is true, and he really is a phantom warning about his upcoming death. However, in this universe, Lance is most likely already dead.”

Lotor jolts behind Shiro, and Shiro forces himself to keep calm.

“It’s a natural conclusion,” Slav casually continues. “He’s injected with pure concentrate of water quintessence every day for over two weeks. Only Alteans or Altean hybrids are known to be able to absorb it in a way that doesn’t overwhelm their bodies. Human bodies, however, are more likely to disintegrate into the quintessence.”

“But how was he able to show himself to us, then?” Allura asks. “If he’s disintegrated.”

“Well, you mentioned that the Blue Lion says that he’s still here, correct?” Slav says. “Most likely it’s his bond with the Blue Lion which is not only anchoring him, but also keeping his sense of self together. Think of it as… an ice cube in a glass of water. They’re made of the same matter, but are able to stay separated. The Blue Lion is what keeps him frozen, but for how long, I cannot estimate.”

“Alright, that makes sense,” Hunk slowly says. “But how could he go back in time and warn Shiro and Allura then?”

They patiently wait for Slav to move into a more comfortable position. Only then does the scientist finally answer: “Time and space are fluid, but as physical beings we experience it in a material, linear way. The wormholes are able to twist time and space, and they, ironically, are made out of water quintessence. The water quintessence can’t self-govern though, and therefore it’s only the Castle or the Black Lion which is able to manipulate this force.”

“So… you’re saying his body is gone, but his soul is still here and it can go whenever and wherever,” Hunk says.

“That… sounds like a ghost,” Pidge says.

“He’s not a ghost!” Hunk snaps.

“Is there a chance of undoing it?” Lotor hesitantly asks.

“A small one,” Slav answers. “However, there are a handful of issues to face. The first one is: how will you drain a body, which most likely isn’t here anymore? The second one is how will you reconstruct a body that only his mother has been able to create?”

“But is it impossible?” Lotor asks.

“No,” Slav says. “Nothing is when it comes to quintessence. But I can’t tell you how. The leading expert in quintessence at the current moment is Haggar.”

Lotor slams a fist into the wall.

Shiro calmly turns around. “Stop that. Black didn’t do anything to you.”

“He can’t be completely disintegrated,” Ezor says. “They moved him right after the final procedure. There might not be a body, but there is something the Shadows are guarding.”

“So let me summarize this,” Pidge says. “Lance has been injected with quintessence so many times that his body has become pure quintessence. Normally, that’d make him as good as dead, but because of the Blue Lion his soul remains in the form of quintessence.”

“What’s a soul?” Ezor asks.

Pidge ignores her. “Which means, he can travel through time and space with no problem, but he’s unable to control it, and that’s why he hasn’t been able to prevent his own capture, besides him not being able to materialize himself.”

“That is correct, Green Paladin,” Slav says. “He can’t control where or when he goes. But he can perceive, and he might even be able to remember. So if the young General over here says that Haggar still has him, it must mean she’s using him as a medium of sort. Which means that at least a part of him is contained enough for him to be used. If you obtain whatever is left of him, that might give you the first clue of how to reconstruct him again.”

Shiro thanks Slav, before turning to look at Lotor and his Generals. “Do we need to go over the plan again?”

Lotor meets his eyes. “Yes. Let us.”

Shiro knows he’s lying.

\---

The secret to Haggar’s base is that it moves all over Zarkon’s colonies, and that it doesn’t follow a predictable rhythm. It’s only because of the General that they know that Haggar is waiting for equipment, and was going to be waiting for them at a specific place and time. And Pidge made sure that the ship they invaded has been sending secure signals so far. If everything goes according to plan, Haggar won’t suspect anything.

This time, they’re one step ahead. The Castle is cloaked when Haggar’s ship shows up, and Pidge immediately invades the base with their virus, making sure that the ship won’t be able to jump for 38 minutes and 42 seconds.

They invade the ship.

\----

“He should be in the east wing,” Ezor reports, sounding slightly out of breath.

“Copy,” Shiro replies. “We’re right behind you, do no engage before we’re within range.”

“Copy what?” Ezor asks. “Zarkon have mercy, Lotor is going in – “

Their channel cuts off, and Shiro mumbles a curse. “Alright, Paladins, change of plans, Lotor is engaging.”

Drones and guards are falling around them as they make way to Ezor, Lotor and Narti’s position.

“At your 2, Hunk,” Keith growls as he stabs another drone.

Hunk takes aim as he runs, and shoots.

The shot goes through the figure, but the figure does not as much as sway.

Shiro, breathing quickly, narrows his eyes. “Hunk, stop.”

They run towards it, and as they come closer, Shiro’s suspicions are proved right.

Lance is standing at the wall. It feels so bittersweet to see him again. Something that resembles relief tries to take hold of Shiro’s heart, but dread stops it because this isn’t Lance, which means this isn’t over. This Lance is transparent, and glowing softly, his eyes transparent, his smirk empty.

“Here to save me?” he asks as he begins to walk along side them. Shiro can’t afford stopping, but it doesn’t seem to stop Lance. He just follows them, easily keeping up despite how he’s only walking. “Haggar is defending the west chamber. Who’s creating a distraction, the Marmorans?”

“Where are you?” Shiro asks.

“I don’t know,” Lance says. “But you have to hurry. She just realized she was being distracted and is heading back now.”

“I thought you were all-seeing?” Keith asks.

“Oh, I am,” Lance says, quite cheerfully. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be alright, okay?”

And with that, he disappears.

\----

They reach the chamber in which _Lotor should’ve been waiting outside of_. Shiro looks back at the Paladins, sweating a little but otherwise okay.

“Everybody alright?” he asks as he scans them for injuries. They all nod back at him, sweaty and scared, but determined. At Shiro’s nod, Keith steps forwards and presses his hand to the scanner and the doors fly open. Keith storms inside.

Allura throws him a puzzled look, before Shiro follows him inside.

The room is clearly a lab. Haggar is standing in front of a blue glowing human test tube, surrounded by her Shadows and shooting rays at Narti and Ezor who are expertly avoiding the rays while engaging the Shadows in battle. Lotor is trying to make way to Haggar, bleeding furiously from his head, but he too is occupied.

“Hunk, Keith, you help me distract the Shadows. Pidge, Allura, make sure Lotor gets to the test tube, go!” Shiro quickly instructs, his arm lighting up.

When Haggar sees them, she cries out in anger. “Lotor, stop this,” she roars, like she isn’t cornered, like they’re the ones who are acting crazy. “I’m doing this for you.”

Lotor doesn’t answer, only stabs a Shadow. It doesn’t react, just keeps fighting, its veins of lava throbbing with excitement.

“He’s your mate. I took him to protect him!” Haggar continues. “Do you have any idea what your father had planned for him?”

“You killed him,” Lotor shouts and Shiro tackles the Shadow fighting him, so Lotor can move forward.

“He’s not dead, but if you touch his resting chamber, he might become,” Haggar argues. “It’s the only thing that is containing him.”

“That’s not true!” Allura replies. “The Blue Lion – “

“His connection to it is weak!”

Lotor finally makes way past Haggar, but doubt is in his expression.

“He’s gonna scatter all over the universe,” Haggar continues, her voice vicious like a claw once she realizes she has his attention. “Let him stay. Leave this base. I swear to you I will rebuild him. You are the son of Zarkon and you have my loyalty.”

“Lotor, she’s lying,” Shiro shouts. “You know he’s connected to the Blue Lion, that he’s connected to us. We’ll find a way.”

“What way?” Haggar asks, voice mildly taunting and Narti hisses as she falls underneath a Shadow. “You don’t know anything of what I’ve done to him!”

It’s true. Shiro doesn’t.

“Break the glass.”

Lotor looks up, hair glued to his forehead. There’s the sound of a subtle crack in the glass behind him. The glowing in the testing tube starts to throb.

Lance is standing outside the glass, still glowing. His eyes are sad, but his smile is fond and his voice is warm.

“Don’t listen to him!” Haggar shouts.

The cracking sound continues. There’s a huge fissure in the glass now, and it’s leaking glowing water.

“Break the glass,” Lance repeats.

“He will die,” Haggar shouts.

“Lotor,” Lance says, calmly. “Let me go.”

Lotor’s brows bend, but something hard goes over his face. He steps back.

Another crack.

“Don’t do it, Lotor!” Haggar screams.

Lotor slams into the tube and the glass breaks.

Water bursts out of the tube, and Lance’s figure in front of it melts away. The light is blinding and Shiro can feel himself dropping to the ground with the pressure. Haggar’s scream continues as Shiro is blinded, until it suddenly starts chokes. Shiro rubs his eyes, trying to see clearly, but he only hears the gurgling sound of Haggar drowning, and the sounds of embers sprayed with water. It continues, the choking turning more desperate, the sound of water on fire fizzling away.

When he can see again, the Shadows are crumbled rock on the floor. Lotor has fallen, and it’s so quiet. Eerily quiet. The only sound there is, is of the water rushing into Shiro’s ears.

He blinks and his vision is blurry, and he feels like his eyes are open underwater.

He looks around and realizes that he must be underwater. His fellow Paladins are floating around him, looking just as disoriented and puzzled as Shiro, their hair floating in a way that means they must be underwater. But it doesn’t feel that way.

Narti and Ezor are wreathing, panicked, and Shiro quickly instructs for the Paladins to secure them. Hunk swims to Narti and picks her up. Shiro goes to get Ezor, and Pidge swims to Allura, who is holding the remains of the human testing tube, and takes her hand.

Haggar is floating too, but she’s still. Her hair is floating around her head, her wrinkled skin swollen with decomposition, her eyes open and blank. Her cape and robes are floating shadows around her, hands frozen in fists.

Shiro looks away and sees Lance sitting in the test tube. He’s glowing like there’s a light radiating from inside him.

Slowly, Lance stands up from his crouch. His legs are shaking, but his eyes are steady. He steps down to the ground, the glass crunching underneath his feet. He looks around, looking a little confused for a moment, before he starts to walk towards Haggar.

\----

Lotor slowly opens his eyes. He’s never been underneath a water surface – neither his Galra nor Altean side likes water much - but now that he isn’t drowning he might see the appeal a bit. It’s so quiet and gravity feels less stern.

Something touches his hand, and with a startle he looks back. Lance is crouching in front of him, looking down at him with a gentle smile. His hair is floating, his eyes glowing, and smile sincere and present. Lotor stares at him, and Lance’s smile grows into a grin. Gingerly he cups his hands around Lotor’s cheeks and presses his lips onto the Galra’s forehead.

_My love._

Lotor tries to reach out for him but Lance lets go of him. He swims to Haggar’s body. Haggar who – if Lotor didn’t know any better – looks dead.

Lance reaches out his hand, and touches her face. She starts to shake, before her body lights up with the same light as his. Slowly, she disintegrates. Crumbles, becomes dust. Lance keeps looking at her throughout the process, until she’s eventually gone.

“Lance.”

Lotor turns his head. Dizzy he sees the Paladins following Lance with their eyes.

“We need to go,” Shiro says.

Lance nods, and the room briefly flashes around them before it melts away.

Lotor feels himself falling or sinking, he’s not sure, until he abruptly feels solid ground underneath him. It feels like sand underneath his shoes.

_It’s dangerous._

Shiro’s voice sounds far away. Like an echo. His tone is stern and angry.

 _Why do you want to control me so bad?_ Lance’s voice shouts back.

The Shiro who’s here drops his face, his hands clenching.

_I ain’t gon’ listen to you!_

The world materializes around them, and they’re standing in a Galra ship.

Shiro’s hair is black, and he’s being held down by Galra. An elderly human male and a young man who looks like the Green Paladin are unconscious, being held up by Galra soldiers.

In a second everything flickers, and Sam Holt is being dragged away by the Galra.

 _No, Sam!_ The Black Paladin screams.

Once again the scene disappears.

They’re in Haggar’s lab. Lance is lying on a bench, a helmet on his head that covers part of his face. The table starts to glow underneath him while Haggar silently watches. As the glow intensifies, Lance starts to scream, his skin lighting up. Lance’s scream only become louder and louder, horrid to listen to. Suddenly he flies off the table, gliding along the floor like he’s falling. He falls into the wall, and rolls up, clutching his body as he screams.

Abruptly he turns his head and looks directly at them.

_GET OUT!_

It feels like being pushed off a cliff. Everything becomes black.

_I just want my family back._

The voice, which Lotor recognizes as Pidge’s, is shaking and small.

_I j-just –_

_Sssh. We’re gonna find them, Pidge._ Lance.

_They’re dead, I can just feel it –_

Slowly Lotor feels himself slip.

They’re standing in a workshop. A hooded figure stands in front of a screen, surrounded by glowing holograms, and the person sniffs as they exhale. A small cloud exits his mouth.

“Matt?”

Lotor turns his head, and sees the Green Paladin behind him, staring at the figure with wide eyes.

The figure doesn’t react. Now that Lotor pays attention, it is indeed the person he saw captured with Voltron’s leader, the young brown-haired one.

Pidge walks past Lotor, and goes to the figure, looking down at them. “Matt?” they call.

The figure doesn’t react.

“Matt!” Pidge shouts.

“He can’t hear you, Pidge,” Shiro says. “We’re not really here.”

“Lance?” Pidge asks and looks up and around. “Lance, please, tell me where this is?”

There’s no reaction, but a monitor besides the figure that must be Matt starts to beep. Matt looks at it, before quickly standing up. The Green Paladin and the man do look almost identical. Big, hazel eyes, skin that’s a little darker than his sibling, but have the same golden tint.

Matt grabs his weapon and covers his face with a mask. He looks around.

“His monitor is notifying him about the high amount of quintessence,” Allura says. “He must think an attack is coming.”

“Matt!” Pidge screams and Matt jolts. His breathing quickens, eyes jumping around the dark work shop.

“Lance?” Pidge calls out again. “Please, please, just tell me where he is.”

_Where?_

It’s Lance’s voice, but it’s confused.

“Yes, where?” Pidge asks, their voice a desperate whisper. “Can you tell me where he is?”

_Where…_

Lance still sounds confused, like he doesn’t understand the question.

“Yes, which place is he in?” Pidge asks, obviously trying to sound patient but fear tings their voice. “What galaxy is he on? Planet?”

Abruptly their figures are thrown upwards, and they fly towards what must be a hole of some sort. They pass right through the metal gate and into a dark cave. They fly through the caves’ wall, and are suddenly above the surface. It appears they’re on a moon. There exist many moons, but Lotor thinks he can identify the galaxy through the star pattern.

 _Here,_ the voice answers.

“Lance, where is here?” Pidge asks, voice breaking.

The same feeling of confusion fills the air.

Then the scenario shifts and Pidge shouts in protest.

But where they end up is a place Lotor recognizes: It’s a memorial for the rebels. He could recognize the red-golden sky anywhere, and the memorial is one of a kind. They float right through it, and over the sea of transponders until they once again stop in front of one. Lotor doesn’t recognize the letter system.

“Oh,” Pidge says as they stare at the transponder. “I don’t understand. This… this is a memorial.”

“This is graveyard,” Lotor supplies. “I know where it is. If what Lance shows stands up to our time line, your sibling has faked his death.”

“But why is he showing me…?” Pidge asks, staring blankly at the radar. “His birthday… Oh. Those are coordinates.”

 _Here,_ Lance voice echoes, sounding eager. Lotor is honestly starting to become a little agitated about how unfocused Lance is, how Lance doesn’t seem to care that Lotor is _here_. But Lotor supposes that is a consequence of Lance’s condition at the moment, and there’s nothing to be done. _Here. Here._

Lotor just wants to go home. He wants Lance to look at him, _see_ him. Talk to him. Anything that makes Lance being alive seem more real. He missed and still misses Lance, and he wants to go home and hold Lance in his arms as he sleeps for a decapheeb.

The thought almost makes him cringe.

At some point, Lotor started becoming comfortable with Lance. Safe even. And he finds that since Lance had gone missing, he has been unable to rest.

“Yes, yes,” Pidge says, tears springing to their eyes. “Can you show me where my father is, Lance?”

_Your father?_

“Yes,” Pidge replies and once again the scenarios shift.

They arrive to a place where the vegetation is green, temperature warm and humid and the houses are square.

“I don’t understand,” Pidge says. “This is where I live.”

With a sweeping motion, they glide inside one of the houses. The floors are covered with something that looks like toys in a mix of colors. What Lotor thinks is a baby is crying, and an older child is screaming.

“Sam!” a female voice is calling. “Get Matt his freaking puzzle.”

Inside what seems to be a lounge, a woman with long blond hair is trying to comfort a screaming, bald infant, red and squishy in her arm. It looks like pudding. With a nose and mouth. Lotor is slightly disgusted.

“Sssh, Katie,” the woman shushes, trying to sound soothing.

“Puzzles!” the child, who must be Matt, screams.

“On my way,” an older man replies, walking into the lounge, carrying a box with a huge picture printed on top of it. A small child with brown hair and hazel eyes is eagerly following him.

“No, no, no,” Pidge says. “Lance, this is too long ago. I want to see where my father is _now_.”

_Now?_

“Yes,” Pidge says, calmer this time as they try to explain. “You know when the glass was broken? The glass in which you were trapped.”

_Broken glass?_

“Yes.”

Everything darkens around them. Lotor hears muffled voices, but then shapes are starting to appear.

“So you think what you did was okay?”

That… sounds like Lance. His voice sounds shrill. He’s younger.

“Get your shit together, Lance, you’re probably not any better than me!” A young voice shouts back, this one sounding more female.

“What the hell are you trying to say, Jordan?”

“You’re probably cheating too!”

“You know what, fuck you,” Lance shouts back. “It’s over. Go suck all the dicks you want, I’m out.”

“Lance!” she shouts but he turns around and walks out of the door, slamming it shut. “Your dick wasn’t even that good!” she screams and picks up a glass and throws it at the door. The glass breaks and shatters.

Funny. Lotor had thought Lance said he was a virgin when they met.

“No, no,” Pidge whines as the scene fades. “Lance, you were captured by the Shadows. Haggar did experiments on you. Remember that?”

_Now?_

“Yes,” Pidge says. “Now. I’m sorry Lance. But I have to know.”

The sun is baking down on their bodies.

A man, tanned and wrinkly, is drinking from a water pouch, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. He carefully stores the pouch in his bag once it’s empty, and grabs a shovel, and starts to dig. His hands are full of blisters, and there’s an infection in one eye.

“Where is this?” Pidge whispers.

They’re standing in front of a sign.

_Camp 2481._

“It says the camp number,” Lotor says. “It’s 2481. Please, we need to get out of this dream now.”

“How?” Hunk asks, looking over his shoulder as a troop of Galra comes marching towards them. “I mean, this is how Lance is, right? He would’ve gotten out if he knew how.”

_Out?_

“Why can he hear you and not me?” Lotor snaps.

Ezor and Narti jolt, but the group of Paladins only shrug.

“Probably because of the Voltron bond?” Pidge guesses. “Don’t take it personally”

“I am not,” Lotor lies.

“Lance?” Shiro calls out. “Lance, can you show yourself to us?”

There’s silent for a little bit, before Lance asks: _Can’t you see me?_

Everything darkens around them, and there Lance stands, wearing his prisoner rags, a robe, and looking boney and sleepless.

“Now we do,” Shiro says, with a little relief. “Lance, where… Are our bodies still in Haggar’s lab?”

Lance shakes his head, and it feels like slipping as they suddenly appear back in the Castle. They can hear Coran shout at somebody, panic and dread tainting his normally chipper voice. The person he seems to be speaking with is Slav.

The Paladins’ bodies are laid all over the infirmary on patient benches, eyes closed and hands clutching the Bayards. The Lions are in their hangars, like they’ve always been there.

Ezor, Narti and Lotor are in healing pods, but the screens show as little sign of waking as the Paladins do. And in a fourth healing chamber, stands Lance. His eyes are closed and his body relaxed, but Lotor can sense him pumping with quintessence, alive and omnipresent despite how his figure seems to be anything but.

“Coran!” Allura shouts. A radar starts beeping.

Coran snaps his neck around, scanning the infirmary, before he turns to look at the scanners. He clears his throat.

“Lance?” he asks. “Are you here?”

Allura turns to look at Lance. “Tell him we’re alright, Lance.”

Lance stares blankly at her. “You need to go back,” he says. “Goodbye.”

\-----

_Lotor?_

Lance stares around, trying to find Lotor, but in the whole wide universe Lance can’t see him. He was so sure he had him. He knows he grabbed them.

He took Lotor and his sisters, and his friends with him. He knows he retrieved them from Haggar’s lab; placed their bodies in the Castle with Coran.

He leaves a part of himself behind to guide the Paladins, but another goes to seek for the Galra-Altean back in Haggar’s lab. Her empty robes are on the floor, but Lotor is nowhere to be seen.

_Lotor?_

\------

_My love? My love? My love?_

_My love? My love? My love?_

_My love? My love? My love?_

_My love? My love? My love?_

_My love? My love? My love?_

_My love? My love? My love?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to support Draco-Rys and Hardlynotever. They both made gorgeous fanart! [1](http://draco-rys.tumblr.com/post/168069505302/inspired-by-hymless-by-moonrose001-who-has-been)/[2](https://hardlynotnever.tumblr.com/post/167996124285/30-days-of-thanks-day-28-moonrose001-fav-fic)


	20. Happy Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope u all had a nice holiday and finished your finals with dignity (i for sure didn't and im indeed not finished with my finals yet, but I thought i would give a treat before I started studying again, specially cause this is the longest that's been between updates... whoops)

Lotor wakes up right before he falls out of the healing pod. He quickly gains his feet, dizzy and disoriented.

“Hello, Prince,” he hears Ezor’s chipper voice greet him. “Took you long enough.”

Her hands cup his elbows and keep him from swaying.

He blearily blinks at her. “What happened?”

Everything before his awakening is blurry.

“Well, you decided to take on Haggar and her Shadows on your own and cracked your skull,” she says. “Which might be why you don’t remember much.”

Quickly blinking, the events on the astral plane come back to him and he turns his head.

Lance is in a healing pod behind him, his body no longer ethereal looking except for a subtle glow from his eyelids. To anyone else Lance might look unconscious. But Lotor knows now that Lance is very much aware, and perhaps might even be watching them right now.

“He’s a smart one, your mate,” Ezor states as she follows Lotor’s eyes. “He plugged himself directly into the Castle and is charging all of his quintessence into the teludav.”

Lotor squints. “He’s draining himself?”

She nods and shrugs after a moment. “Basically. But at the same time, he’s also draining quintessence from the other Paladins to get an even, varied amount of it in his body. Right now his body almost matches the one before he was captured, and his quintessence levels are stabile. The only problem is that he’s not waking up.”

Lotor stares at Lance. His eyes seem to be moving underneath his lids, like he’s dreaming or looking around with his eyes closed. “Do we know why?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “No. Zethrid and Acxa need to talk to you. It’s about your mate’s mother.”

\-----

_There._

Lance opens his eyes.

He can hear the pod start to make noise as he forces its doors apart.

His body _hurts_. It feels like pins and needles on steroids. Like he’s been frozen down for years, and he just learned how to move after having being thawed.

But furthermore, his feelings are so strong and _here_. And the feeling he feels the most is need. He needs. He doesn’t know what he needs, only knows there’s a reason why he woke up right here and right now.

On a huge chair in front of the healing pod sits the man he loves. Lance knows he’s been there for nothing more a few minutes, and still the man fell asleep as soon as he sat down. Lance walks towards him, longing singing in his veins.

And it’s funny because to Lance Lotor isn’t the son of an emperor. He isn’t the prince of the Galra Empire, hasn’t been for a while. But Lotor is _the_ Prince. The Prince of the Milky Way, a beautiful swirl of light and stars. The lines of his neck map the route home. The way his eyes look like the sun feels like drops of nectar on Lance’s lips. And Lance knows, with an immediacy that might have something to do with the deafening sound of waves crashing on rocks in his veins, that they will always be. That Lance will love him till the end of his physical existence.

He slowly drapes himself on Lotor’s lap, and Lotor jolts, his hands jumping from the arm rests. Calm, Lance rests his cheek against Lotor’s chest, and he can feel Lotor’s heart beating rampantly. Despite the sound coming from a feeling of distress, Lance thinks it’s the most beautiful sound ever.

“My love,” he whispers.

Lotor slowly exhales, and Lance can feel him look down at him. Lance looks up, his hands cupping Lotor’s arms.

Lotor’s eyes are glossy and wide. As Lance hesitantly smiles, Lotor exhales shakily, his lips pursing as emotion overcomes his face. He tries to hide it, tries to not let it show.

“Let it out,” Lance whispers, stroking Lotor’s arms. “Let it go.”

Lotor blinks quickly and a few tears slip out. He inhales sharply, like it hurts to breath.

“There we go,” Lance whispers.

Lotor sobs once, before his hands come up and hold Lance’s cheeks.

In that moment Lance knows that Lotor would take a million bullets for him. Knows that Lotor would give Lance the world; in a way, he already has.

Slowly Lance directs Lotor to his neck, and Lotor lets himself be moved. He inhales deeply, and Lance can feel his lashes flutter against his neck.

The doors slide open behind them, and Lance looks up. At some point he put his hand on Lotor’s neck, and when the Galra-Altean moves to see who it is, Lance clenches down.

It’s Shiro and Hunk and they look surprised at the scene that greets them. Lance puts a finger on his lips, to signal them to be quiet, before waving them away.

\----

They fall asleep like that. Lotor seems more exhausted than Lance has ever seen him, and even though Lance gets cold resting against Lotor’s body, he’s never felt more comfortable.

That night, in a dream, he’s standing on the snowy field again. But this time, instead of looking desolate and barren, the snowy field reflects the light like a million holographic diamonds. The wolf is there, like the last time, and it’s bigger and more feral than Lance has ever seen it. Lance’s head barely reaches its shoulders, and its white fur is crusty with ice and congealed blood.

Lance isn’t afraid, even as it growls. Even as its yellow-blue eyes glare at him. He reaches out his hands, and it doesn’t snap its jaws at him. It’s calm, subtly dips its head with the touch of Lance’s hands gently cupping its muzzle. It rumbles a little. Lance leans in, and presses his forehead into its own and inhales. It closes its eyes.

\----

“Alright, enough of that,” he hears someone say. “Time to wake up, lads, I need to examine number three.”

Lance blink open his eyes, and straightens up. Lotor rumbles underneath him.

“Coran?” Lance mumbles.

“Welcome back, my boy.”

Lance smiles sleepily up at Coran, and takes the hand Coran reaches out. “I never left,” Lance tells him, and wobbles onto his feet. His legs easily bend underneath his weight, jabs of pain running through his bones, his knees refusing to lock.

Coran quickly catches him when Lance falls.

“Coran, watch your back,” Lance grins.

Coran’s moustache flares in indignation. “To your information, I am stronger than Allura is and you’re as light as baby cherup’s feather. You shouldn’t have tried to stand.”

Lance rubs his neck. “Yeah, my body hurts pretty bad.”

Coran pulls him into a hug and Lance indulges him even though he hasn’t really missed them. He hadn’t lied when he said he never left. He was always here, watching them as they panicked, as they grieved, as they planned. He’s been calm throughout the whole affair because he always knew what the outcome would be. They hadn’t though.

For all they knew Lance could’ve been dead, and despite his insecurities about his place on the team, he now knows the thought of a Voltron member being gone, tore them up. At the end of the day he doesn’t understand how he could ever have doubted them. Their family was too small, too alone, for them to take each other for granted.

Lance pretends that he doesn’t hear Coran’s shaking breath, and just starts to rub his back. Coran clears his throat, and pulls back. “Let me get you something to sit in,” Coran says and arranges Lance back on Lotor’s lap.

Ten minutes later Lance has been placed in a wheelchair, and even though he can control it perfectly by himself, Coran is pushing it. He idly chats about the Castle and the cleaning they will have to catch up with, as they make way through the empty hallways.

Lotor sleepily follows them, quiet and visibly exhausted.

“Oh, we have a surprise for you,” Coran says as the dining hall’s doors slide open.

At the chairs, Lance’s mom, dad and sister are sitting.

Lance knew this day would come. He just didn’t know it would happen _now_.

“Mamá?” he croaks.

She stands up, a watery smile spreading on her face.

She’s just as he remembers her. Her skin a golden cream, eyes big and blue, and hair dark and wavy. He smiles shakily back at her, even though he has seen her quite recently.

She quickly walks up to him. Her grin doesn’t disappear as she kneels and pulls him into her arms. He hugs her back tightly.

“I always knew,” she says. “I always knew.”

He smiles.

His father is scowling, but his eyes are wet as he silently kneels down to hug Lance too. His hair is longer, thick, frizzy and curly as Lance remembers it, eyes big and brown.

Finally, Lola joins them, but instead of a hug she hits him. Of course. “Way to go, asshole,” she says. “Only you would be able to find a mecha feline soulmate in the desert.”

He laughs wetly, and she presses her forehead into his, and he inhales with her. She smells like the sea, salt and baking sand and the gentle breeze. And he knows he’s home.

\----

Lance doesn’t have more lists of things he knows for sure. The quintessence is the thing that killed him, but is also the thing that is keeping his body together – the occasional shot of bone marrow and blood help quintessence to form a body though, and that’s why Lotor had ended up approaching his family instead of letting Narti and Axca silently watch it.

That night Lance observes Lotor as he sleeps. Dark rings circle his eyes, and the cold glow of the room’s lights make him look like Lance: Blue.

All of his memories are jumbled in his head. He does remember but isn’t quite sure in what order it came. His dad told him to try writing stuff down. Lance doesn’t because he’s one of those people who tell themselves that they’ll just remember it. But he is making one.

  1. Lotor was looking for _company_ , when Lance met him. Lotor’s body reminded him of a sunset. White clouds painted with fine brushstrokes, golden rays of a forgotten sun, a peek of blue and a sky of purple. If Lance had thought that reference through he would’ve known that sunsets usually brought darkness with them.
  2. Lance chases the thrill of strength holding him down. His house is shaking in a storm he’s not sure he can weather, and while he knows he’s losing control, it feels nice to _burn slow._
  3. Lotor meets his eyes and restrains Lance’s breathing and Lance feels _fever highs_.
  4. It’s funny how not only violence but also fear can leave _bruises_. Lance looks at his body, and it’s not only his skin that is tainted with fingerprints and bite marks. His heart is sunken with fear, black and blue.
  5. Lance’s head is filled with _smoke_ as he withers in Lotor’s torture chamber. Saying that the smoke origins from pain would be a merciful lie. When Lotor touches Lance is relieved, and not only because it means the Prince won’t hurt him, but because Lance is being assured that despite everything, the Prince _still wants him._
  6. You shouldn’t miss someone who hurt you, right? Someone who always pushed your limits, broke into your house repeatedly. You shouldn’t feel grief, or miss them while in another’s arms. And yet Lance finds himself _thinking about Lotor late at night._
  7. Lance tells Lotor that he’s ugly when he’s sad. Remorse is a foreign look on Lotor. It should help Lance let go. Instead the knowledge of Lotor’s affection kludges him. He dreams of _the Wolf_ for the first time that night.
  8. Jealousy makes the wolf bare its teeth.
  9. That night the worlds Lance has been crossing over, the night of darkness in Lotor’s cold embrace and the warmth of the team around _merge_ into one.
  10. Lance always thought he was a grown-up. He decided to become an astronaut when he was a young adolescent. He killed more than he cares to admit. He isn’t a _kid_ None of them are.
  11. _Demons_ are like the past. They always come back, and they do so in uglier, more malicious ways. And Lance is stupid, because he can’t let them have Lotor.



“Lance.”

Lance blinks, and meets Lotor’s eyes.

“Why are you awake?” Lotor whispers. “Are you cold?”

“No,” Lance replies. “Did I wake you up?”

Lotor doesn’t answer at first. “Who’s Jordan?” he asks instead.

Lance stares at him for a moment. “My ex-girlfriend. You saw that?”

Lotor nods once. “I thought you told me I took your virginity.”

“You did,” Lance assures him. “My butt virginity.”

“It’s not the same,” Lotor says, a complaint faint in his voice.

Weirdly enough, the hint of Lotor’s possessiveness doesn’t annoy Lance. Instead it delights him. Not because he likes Lotor being jealous, but because it feels familiar and this time Lane has the patience for it.

He rolls on top of Lotor, and lets his hands stroke down Lotor’s sides. “So if I got to … make love to you one day, you wouldn’t think of it any differently than what we always do?”

“Make love?” Lotor repeats, and it’s only when Lance’s hands come down to clench his ass that Lotor’s brows raise in understanding. “I guess it would be different,” he reluctantly admits.

Lance pulls him into a kiss, and God did he miss this. “I love you so much,” he sighs when he pulls back to press kisses against Lotor’s neck.

“Is there anything else you need to tell me?” Lotor asks, voice distant, but his hands are coming up to cup Lance’s waist.

“You’re my second love,” Lance admits, but he feels calm as he does it.

“Jordan was your first,” Lotor guesses, but Lance shakes his head.

“Was I in love with her?” he asks. “Yes. But did I love her? No.”

“Who is it then?” Lotor asks.

“Hunk,” Lance confesses. “He got a girlfriend. It broke my heart, and that’s why I met you in the club that night.”

Lotor’s hands tighten.

“What about you?” Lance asks, turning the tables around. “You’ve never told me anything about yourself.”

“That’s true,” Lotor sighs, his tone indicating he knows exactly what Lance is doing. “It’s probably for the better benefit.”

“There,” Lance whispers, rutting softly. “It doesn’t affect us now, does it?”

Lotor doesn’t answer. Instead he rolls them around, and straddles Lance’s legs. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he growls before pulling Lance into a kiss.

Lance can’t help but grin, curling his legs around Lotor’s waist. He rolls his hips feeling himself become hard and Lotor returns the favor. A keen makes way out of Lance’s mouth as Lotor’s kisses become harder and hungrier, and this is exactly what Lance needs: to be embraced, to be made love to, to feel pain and pleasure. He needs to feel alive, needs to feel his body again.

But Lotor pulls away.

“No,” he mummers. “Your body hurts.”

“Never when you’re here,” Lance whispers back sweetly, and pulls his lover in again. Lotor melts on his chest and Lance thinks Lotor has forgotten all about it, until Lotor pushes Lance’s arms away from his neck and sits up.

“You are convincing,” he announces as he rolls off Lance. “But still no sex.”

“No,” Lance protests. “Handjobs and blowjobs and rimjobs should be permitted at least.”

“What are all of these jobs?” Lotor questions.

Lance can feel a grin coming on. “Come on, just sit on my face and jack me off afterwards, it will be great.”

“You’re a devious young Paladin,” Lotor says and pulls the duvet on top of him. “Go to sleep.”

“That’s unfair,” Lance whines.

\----

  1. Lotor’s mind is an exoskeleton and once he cracks, it turns out that he’s soft on the inside. Lance should hold himself back. Instead he pours like he was never a starving man and thirstily drinks from Lotor’s heart. In return he tells about his home; about _starlight and water._



\----

“That’s completely fair,” Shiro says, and wipes his mouth with a napkin.

Mama dropped by early in the morning with eggs, ham, bread and juice. She had to leave directly after for work, and Hunk prepared the meal, so the Paladins and Coran are all having breakfast together. All except Pidge at least.

They had been gone ever since he woke up. Apparently they had found their brother and father’s location while he was asleep, and they had gone to retrieve them, while the Paladins were resting and reconnecting with their families. Lance had been baffled that Shiro let Pidge go alone, but they were all absolutely positive that the rescue missions would be relatively easy. Besides, Zethrid and Acxa who had been watching his family while he was in capture – Lotor really had upheld his part of the deal – had been bored out of their mind by the time their surveillance mission finished, and volunteered to chaperone Pidge, an offer Shiro had accepted in amusement.

“I don’t think you should be doing sexy times during your recovery,” Shiro calmly continues.

“Objection, at least hand jobs should be permitted,” Lance protests.

“We’re eating,” Hunk complains.

“Overruled, I don’t think you have that sort of self-control,” Shiro effortlessly shoots down.

Lance pouts at his food.

“How are you feeling, besides your suffering libido?” Shiro asks, and it’s a difference Lance barely notices, but it’s there. Shiro has always been calm, but today he’s almost... peaceful.

“Good,” Lance says, and when Shiro just looks patiently at him, he adds: “I’m having a little trouble sleeping. Everything’s jumbled in my head.”

“Oh?” Shiro nonchalantly hums, but Lance knows him well enough to know he’s anything but casual about this.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to make a list, you know, my dad suggested it to me,” Lance continues, trying to not really say what the issue concretely is.

Shiro shoots him a look. "Is that so," he wryly comments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you're think!


	21. Take him when he may, if he may

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My old man, he's a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam.

  1. Lotor lets Lance touch the softest parts of him. Not only the _plum_ part, but all of it. To this day Lance doesn’t know if the softness had always been there; or whether Lotor summoned them, because Lance needed them to be.



\----

“This sucks,” Lance wheezes, collapsed on the rubber mats.

“Now, now,” his father says. “It’s going to get better with time.”

Shiro, who has been reading through most of Lance’s physical therapy session, nods in agreement. Lance hates that because of Voltron, his father’s Spanish is automatically translated and his space dad and real dad get to speak a lot more than Lance prefers.

Lance is sweating, and his stomach rumbles, something it’s been doing more and more. At this rate Lance can transition from smoothies to goo. Yay.

His father had, in opposition to Lance’s mother, actually taken leave to stay with Lance. Lance suspects that because of his visits, his mother always knew he was alive, but his father had believed Lance was dead, and seeing Lance again shook him harder than any anticipated. His siblings still have to go to school, to Lola’s annoyance, so most of the mornings and afternoons were spent with his dad and Shiro doing physical therapy at private clinic in Havana, while Hunk, Keith and the Alteans explored.

Shiro throws him some water. “You’re doing very well, Lance. You should be proud of yourself.”

Lance blinks up at him, sweat running down his temples.

His dad coughs. “So. Lotor, huh?”

Lance makes a face. He supposes it was only a matter of time. “Yeah.”

“He’s a little big, ain’t he,” his dad noticed like they haven’t all noticed Lotor being at least a head taller than them. “Very purple.”

“Yeah.”

“Fangs and claws.”

“Yeah.”

“Shapeshifter?”

“Yeah, dad, what of it?” Lance asks in annoyance.

“Nothing,” his dad mumbles.

“You’re being judgmental,” Lance says anyway. “Remember how mama’s family didn’t like you? You’re doing the exact same.”

His dad narrows his eyes at him. “It’s not the same.”

“It is!” Lance says and sits up. “They didn’t like you because you’re creo, and you don’t like Lotor because he’s purple.”

“It’s not the purple,” his father protests. “It’s the alien.”

“Lance,” Shiro says, seemingly innocent, but the look he throws is disappointed.

Lance remembers that his father has been through a lot, and closes his mouth. When did Shiro’s disapproval start to mean more than his own father’s?

“Help me up,” Lance says, playing the helpless card and reaches out for his father.

His father, who seemed so strong and invincible before, now seems frail. Lance doesn’t know if the grief did that to him or if he was always that way and Lance just never noticed.

\----

  1. Lotor won’t admit that he loves Lance. But when they say their farewells, he kisses Lance in front of the team and his sisters, and Lance just knows that finally Lotor’s has put Lance’s love on top of the list.



\-----

Lance is pouting when he comes home. In fear of being recognized, Lance can’t go back to his childhood home. At least his father brought him ice cream, and that sort of makes him happier.

Still, Lance just wants to throw himself on his bed and go through his closets, let the scents of home he’s been longing for so much wash over him. Instead his parents and siblings are packing all of his stuff for him.

“How was therapy?” Lotor asks, looking up from his book as Lance rolls inside their room.

“I can move for five minutes now without getting a heart attack,” Lance grumbles, standing up from his chair and walking to the bathroom. He hurriedly goes through his skincare regime, before dragging his body to the bed, completely winded. Lotor has never tried to help Lance, but always listened to Lance’s whining when it came to it.

“Good,” Lotor neutrally says, ignoring Lance’s ironic tone. “You’re getting stronger.”

“Yeah,” Lance says, and rolls his eyes. “Can’t share bed with a cripple, right?”

The words leave his mouth before he has time to stop himself.

Lotor looks up at him and narrows his eyes at Lance. “You were disintegrated into atoms. Give your body time to remember it being a body.”

His tone is harsh, but weirdly enough it actually pulls Lance out of his self-pity. “Sure.” He throws himself on top of the covers. “I guess,” he sighs, pulling off his shirt.

“Did you talk with Slav?” Lotor asks, a little calmer as he puts down his book.

“Yeah,” Lance sighs. “He went through my test results.”

“And?” Lotor asks.

Lance shrugs. “He said that Coran and Allura are right. My body still contains an abnormally large amount of quintessence, and he says that my cells are relying on that quintessence to operate properly, and they’re only using my genetic code as a guideline. In other words, if I drain myself anymore my body will go back to being dead.”

“So,” Lotor says. “Basically… you’re… Like my father and Haggar.”

“Yep,” Lance says. “They’re the only ones who died and was revived by a quintessence overexposure.”

Lotor looks thoughtfully at him, before putting his hand on Lance’s back and pulling him into his side.

Lance inhales his scent.

“What does this mean?” Lotor asks.

Lance shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m the first of my kind.”

“Do you feel different?”

Lance shrugs. “I don’t think I do,” he says, but he knows it’s a lie.

Lately, when he looks at someone, he sees things. And some of things he knows are his memories with that person. Others feel like he was there himself, but… he couldn’t have been. And then there are the visions with things that he knows has never happened. And he doesn’t know how to process that information, and so he just shuts up about it.

Lotor presses his lips into Lance’s temple, and Lance nuzzles his neck, breathing in Lotor’s scent

“Keep training,” Lotor says. “So you can get bigger.”

From any other the words might sound degrading, but coming from Lotor it simply sounds pragmatic.

“I’ve gotten smaller?” Lance asks.

“Yeah,” Lotor says and without asking he lifts up Lance’s sweater and bares the bumpy surface of ribs underneath skin. “You feel smaller.”

Lance pouts. When Lotor lost weight all that time ago, Lance hadn’t rubbed it in. “Maybe you’re just too big, considered that?” he asks a little snappily.

Lotor sighs. “Compared to your species, I guess I am.” And without further warning, he starts to shrink. Lance sits up as Lotor’s head gets smaller and his limbs turn shorter and thinner.

He shrinks until he’s a few inches taller than Lance, and Lance immediately throws himself on him. Lotor goes “Uff”, but takes it.

“Oh my god,” Lance mumbles, pressing kisses into Lotor’s neck, even nipping a little bit when Lotor tolerates it.

“Are you getting turned on?” Lotor asks, when he feels Lance starts to harden.

“I’m a healthy boy, yeah,” Lance says, unapologetic. He gets his hands underneath Lotor’s shirt, stroking smooth skin.

“Lance,” Lotor says in warning.

“Please,” Lance whimpers. “Just… lie there and let me use you for a moment.”

“It’s not because I don’t want you that we can’t do this,” Lotor mumbles.

Lance presses his face into Lotor’s chest, before daringly lifting up Lotor’s shirt. He drags his tongue down Lotor’s breastbone, before pulling a nipple into his mouth. Lotor’s exhalation shakes, and Lance’s hands cup Lotor’s waist. It feels so small in-between his hands, harder than most.

“If we do this,” Lotor continues, when Lance moves to another nipple, “I’m not going to want to stop.”

“We don’t have to,” Lance says.

Lotor sighs, as if he’s disappointed to hear that, and throws Lance off him.

Lance yelps as he’s suddenly moved, and Lotor catches his arm before he rolls over the edge of the bed.

Lotor clicks his tongue, before he drags Lance to the middle of the bed. A delighted grin is spreading on Lance’s mouth, because oh god he missed this.

Lotor straddles him, just as heavy as he usually is, and drags his shirt off. He shucks off Lance’s too, before bowing over to drag Lance into a kiss, and it’s far from the necking they’ve had so far. There’s intent in it, so much of it that Lotor sits up right away and takes off Lance’s pants and underwear. He rolls his own pants down to his knees, face settling on Lance’s neck, sucking on it so hard that Lance hisses.

Only then does he move down to Lance’s nipples, licking and biting them until the high kicks in and Lance’s heart starts to beat faster.

“Lotor,” Lance whispers. “Take off your pants.”

He knows it’s a ‘no’, when he feels teeth close around his nipple. His hips buck, and Lotor grabs his dick, jerking it quickly a couple of times, too hard and too quick, so intense it’s almost too much.

“Please,” Lance whispers.

“What?”

“Anything,” Lance whispers. Lotor gently kisses Lance’s shoulder, before unbuttoning his pants, and reaching into his underwear to touch himself. Lance bites his lip as he sees Lotor’s eyes flutter closed and he writhes. Lotor’s hand comes up quicker than Lance anticipated, and he stares in wonder as Lotor’s wet fingers come down to stroke Lance a couple of times.

Lotor rolls Lance onto his stomach, and crawls up to press his chest against Lance’s back. Breathing calmly, Lotor strokes his hands up Lance’s arms and stomach, spreading his slick, and Lance exhales shakily, arching his back and pressing his ass against Lotor. Lotor turns Lance’s head, and they kiss for a moment. Lotor’s hand comes up and strokes Lance’s chest before settling on his neck.

The other hand creeps back inside Lance’s underwear, and Lance sighs as Lotor pushes in a finger.

“You’re insatiable,” Lotor grumbles as the finger pushes in more fiercely.

It’s weird to be able to kiss Lotor without nearly wringing his head, but he enjoys the freedom as Lotor starts to finger him more roughly. Another finger quickly joins, and Lance groans, his hips twitching as Lotor fills him up inside.

He doesn’t even know his legs are shaking, until Lotor pushes him onto his side. Before Lance has time to realize what’s happening, Lotor is already lifting up his leg and pushing his finger inside Lance again. Lance whimpers as the strong fingers build up a rhythm, Lotor kissing and sucking at his neck until Lance is eventually loose enough for a third finger to push inside.

“Yeah,” Lance gasps and Lotor’s fingers curl, pushing hard into his prostate and Lance cries out, his hips rolling. Lotor’s breath is becoming quicker and louder as he holds Lance still, and his fingers jack in and out in a rougher pace.

“Please,” Lance whispers, and Lotor’s hand closes around Lance’s dick. He moans, almost coming, but then Lotor is tightening his dick around the base.

Lance whimpers, opening his eyes and Lotor whispers: “Not yet.”

Lance throws his head back and moans when Lotor continues his ministrations He’s loose but Lotor is consciously dragging it out, pushing Lance to the edge of pleasure again and again, quickly clenching down on Lance’s dick when he’s close to coming.

“Please,” Lance gasps and finally Lotor arranges them in a 77.

He grabs his dick, and it’s hard and hot and despite being smaller, it still stings when it pushes inside. Lance holds still as Lotor slowly pushes in. When he’s buried to the hilt, he pushes back and his natural lubricant makes it easier.

“Yes,” Lance whispers, his leg starting to cramp.

“Don’t come,” Lotor whispers and rolls his hips. Lance mewls, his body sweaty and trembling with exhaustion, but he’s so close that he can’t care. It’s like being drunk.

Lotor starts up a relentless pace, and Lances lies on the mattress, breathing quickly into his pillow.

“Lotor,” he whispers. “Please.”

“Say it,” Lotor instructs him.

“Please!”

“Not that. The other thing.” The use of the word ‘thing’, makes Lance blink up at Lotor.

“I love you?” Lance says a little unsurely and Lotor scoots closer somehow, his hips pumping.

“Again,” he growls.

“I love you,” Lance repeats, his voice a moan.

Lotor exhales sharply, and shakes, fucking Lance hard for a couple of moments, and cums. Lance looks up at him, dizzy with pleasure and love as Lotor empties himself inside Lance.

Lance isn’t really worried. Lotor stays hard even after he cums, so Lance fully expects the Galra-Altean to keep going, like he always does when he wants more than one orgasm.

That’s why he cries out in betrayal when Lotor pulls out.

“What are you doing?” Lance asks.

Lotor doesn’t answer. He rolls Lance unto his back, and looks down at Lance’s hard dripping length.

Then he starts to straddle Lance.

“Lotor?” he whimpers, and Lotor grabs Lance dick before lifting his hips. Is Lotor doing what Lance thinks he’s doing?

Lance groans when the bud of his dick nudges against Lotor’s hole. Lotor smirks down at him, before rubbing Lance’s dick against his hole a couple of times.

“Lotor,” Lance keens, his hips trying to buck, but they’re unable to underneath Lotor’s heavy weight.

Lotor pushes down and Lance can’t take his eyes off Lotor. As Lance pushes into tight, wet heat, Lotor closes his eyes and his head falls back. He’s absolutely breathtaking to look at. Lance wants to keep him all to himself.

Then Lance feels the second entrance, small thick folds wet and soft inside, and Lotor moans as Lance’s dick pushes past them. Lotor abruptly lets go of Lance’s dick, and rests his hands against Lance’s chest as he stops, getting used to the feeling.

“Does it hurt?” Lance asks, his need to orgasm being overshadowed by worry.

Lotor doesn’t answer at first.

“Lotor,” Lance gently calls out, putting his hand on Lotor’s hipbone.

“No,” Lotor grumbles back, his voice husky. “Just… Ah, like something is being pulled apart.”

Lance blinks up at him. “Like the feeling of a stretch?”

Lotor hastily nods.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Lance says, rubbing Lotor’s arm.

Just as he says it, Lotor pushes down further, his voice becoming louder as Lance slips all the way in.

“Lance,” Lotor whispers. “We forgot a condom.”

“Shit,” Lance mumbles, looking towards his dresser.

“It doesn’t matter, nothing will happen,” Lotor hurries to say.

Then he pushes up and falls down. Lance throws his head back, trying to get used to the feeling of being inside someone as well.

“Why tonight?” Lance asks.

“I needed to,” Lotor grumbles. “I don’t know when…”

He falls down and puts his arms on either side of Lance’s head, kissing Lance’s lips before he gets to finish.

Lance kisses back, his stomach coiling and his mind frantic. Then Lotor does a slow roll, and suddenly they have a slow and steady rhythm. Lotor rides Lance in his own pace, and as Lance looks up at him, his dick stimulated far more than he is used to when they are having sex, he can’t help but wonder if what made Lotor do this was the reminder of their mortality of all things.

“Lotor,” Lance moans.

“Say it,” Lotor whispers.

“I love you,” Lance says again.

Lotor shakes all the way down as he takes speed.

“I’m gonna cum,” Lance whimpers, and grabs for Lotor’s dick. Lotor almost seems to flinch, and Lance smiles up at him as he jerks him off. Their pace quickens, Lotor’s hair covering his face as his spine seems to curl. Lance jerks him quicker, and Lotor gasps and comes all over Lance’s stomach.

Lance blinks dazily up at him before desperately grinding up into Lotor, losing it when he feels Lotor clench down on him. He cums so hard his whole body shakes.

He almost feels like he can’t breathe at the end of it.

Lotor pulls off Lance’s dick, and falls down besides Lance, and Lance blinks up at the ceiling, feeling dazed. He’s pretty sure he’s not able to move, and his breathe must say as much, because it’s Lotor who gets up to clean them off.

Lance can barely turn his head, but he does and he grins lovingly at the love of his life. “So,” he says. “We just did that.”

“Yes,” Lotor whispers back.

“I really do love you,” Lance says. “Even though I’m a blue boy now, don’t question that it’s true.”

Lotor blinks at him a couple of times, before putting his hand on Lance’s cheek. “I love you, blue boy.”

And all the stars align.

\----

  1. When. When will the time come where both Lance and Lotor are assured in their relationship, feel strong in their connection. When will Lance be able to not only love his man, but also trust him fully. How long will it take?



\----

He dreams that night and sees two visions. One of them is Lotor lying on a bed in a dark room, the light of fire falling on his face in colors of amber. His face is glistening with sweat, face distorted in pain. Lance recognizes the room as his family’s living room. Lotor’s not wearing a shirt, and the glow of his chest markings is flickering.

There is blood on the sheets, and Lance can hear the tiny sound of an infant’s cry.

The other vision is much more gruesome.

Lotor is lying in a room Lance recognizes as Lotor’s birth mother’s sleeping chamber. The room is empty, the glow making Lotor’s sleeping body look sick. His cheek markings have melted together with his skin, barely there. There’s a round scar on Lotor’s forehead.

Lance screams.

\----

  1. They yell a lot. Lance is angry for the wrong reasons. Lotor is afraid for the right ones.



\----

Lance’s list gets soaked. The ink bleeds and the letters flow together. He can’t continue because this is when everything starts to melt together. He’s lying on his stomach, held down as he’s injected in his back over and over again, burned with the scorching touch of the Shadows. This is when the walls start to melt, when flowers start blooming from his skin. He’s not fixed, he’s still blue and everything is still connected –

He’s sinking into murky waters, a bottomless hole he will never truly escape.

Then he lands on rock hard ground. He opens his eyes and sees that the ground spans wide and golden underneath his feet. His prisoner rags become muddy with canyon clay.

The ground suddenly starts shaking before it suddenly elevates, rising from the depth at a high speed. He slams down with the pressure as it continues rising, and suddenly he’s above the surface, breathing air. A volcano sputters with lava as the island takes its first breathe.

The sky spans wide over Lance’s head, stars sparkling and clouds mingling. Green grass and moss start to grow, and the water licks the edges of the island’s coastline, distant but there.

Lance sighs with relief as he falls unto the moist earth, the grass soft underneath his body.

“Thanks, team,” Lance thanks, not for the first time. But this time he thinks his team can hear him.

\-----

Lance can’t finish the list. He admits this to Lotor the following morning. Lotor offered going to physical therapy with Shiro and Lance, and seeing him with brown skin, round ears and white eyes.

Still, he sees how his parents react when they see Lotor look not only shorter but human. They look… relieved? It’s still a little awkward because Lotor isn’t wearing a translator, and so he’s not able to communicate with either of Lance’s parents. Lance is almost positive that Lotor forgot it on purpose to spare his parents from trying to pick up a conversation with him.

“You have to stay here with me,” Lance says.

“Hm?” Lotor hums, walking besides Lance’s wheel chair.

“Until I can walk,” Lance continues. He knows the team will get a call in 13 days, and they’ll have to leave. Lotor will go with them to keep Zarkon away from Lance’s location. Lotor will be captured. Lance doesn’t want to recall what happens from there.

“If you say so,” Lotor compliantly agrees.

Lance turns his head and looks at Lotor. He knows his eyes are glowing, the knowledge of universes making them heavy in his head. “Promise me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Open ending, because I couldn't see the story finish in any other way :D 
> 
> Can I just say thank you???? for the kudos and comments? Writing this story has been quite the journey, and your support has been overwhelmingly valuable. Thank u for the fanart, i love it and if i could find all the artists and licks them i WOULD
> 
> Truly, thank you to all the regular commenters as well. You've all been the best cheering team ever. 
> 
> This aint the last we will see of Hymnless. If everything goes appropriate to plan, a fic coming in the future will play with some alternate universes and we will get a glimpse of Lance and Lotor's future

**Author's Note:**

> Every author is in a desert of editing and proofreading, and every comment is a water bottle.


End file.
